From Paris, With Love
by longdistance
Summary: She's been gone from England for a few years but now she's home again in time for Christmas. It will be a holiday season unlike any other.
1. The Ministry's Annual Christmas Party

**Oh...oh, hi there. Well, it's been a while. Hasn't it? I'm still doing some original writing but I thought I'd pop in with a bit of holiday themed fun. This will be a short multi-chapter fic. Just a little something that I've been using as a break from my original work. Editing is tedious and these characters are so familiar. I hope you enjoy. Please read and review.**

 **As always, these characters are not mine.**

* * *

 **One**

If Draco had been to one Ministry event, he swore he'd been to them all. The same music, the same faces, the same decorations at every holiday—it never changed.

Christmas was the worst of them all. One had to dodge magicked mistletoe and every year they always asked to borrow some of his house elves. He said yes, of course. The little creatures absolutely loved the extra baking and it scored him bonus points in improving his family's reputation.

"Why do we come to this every year," he sighed to his mother after he'd handed over their tickets to the doorman.

"Because it shows that we're in tune with the Ministry's mission to modernize and it's good exposure for you, dear."

Narcissa patted his arm with her free hand and she smiled wanly up at her son. They both knew the truth of it. Business was business and in order to keep their name in a good light, they had to play the game. Malfoy Industries had struggled to even exist after the war and it had been Draco's duty and sole desire to see that it didn't go down in flames. A bit difficult for a company such as the one his father had created, which specialized in all sorts of devious monetary exchanges, but he'd managed. With his father's imprisonment, the company was in his hands. The company now specialized in buying and selling magical artifacts and design. It was a lucrative business and entirely honest now.

"They've seated us one table up this year," his mother quipped as they stopped at a round table, their nameplates next to those of Neville Longbottom and his wife.

"What joy," Draco muttered dryly. The public opinion of him and his mother seemed content to be split. Some acknowledged his redemption and others merely supposed his hands were just as dirty as his father's had been, no matter how much he bit his tongue and allowed the Ministry to inspect his company at whim.

Narcissa ignored his lack of enthusiasm and helped herself to her seat. She draped her wrap over the back of her chair and looked up at him. "Be a dear and bring me a glass of champagne, won't you, Draco?"

Draco grunted but strode off to the bar to procure her drink without argument. He scowled at the sprigs of mistletoe which grew over random couples without warning, prompting giggling from the willing suspects. As he approached the bar, he spied a familiar head of messy black hair and rolled his eyes.

"Potter," he muttered as he stood next to the wizard and waited to gain the attention of the bartender.

Harry Potter turned to him, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger before he gave him a nod. "Malfoy. Keeping your nose clean, yeah?"

"I should think so," Draco drawled as he held up two fingers to the bartender. "You don't see me in your office, do you?"

Harry's features morphed into a genial smile and he bumped shoulders with his old nemesis. "Aw, you act like we don't like each other. I'm hurt."

"Piss off, Potter," Draco smirked in return. "You know well enough that I still think you're a tosser."

"The feeling is mutual."

Draco glanced over Harry's shoulder at the new addition to the conversation and frowned at the freckled face of Ronald Weasley.

"You can get bent, Weasley."

Ron held a hand over his heart in mock hurt, "Oh, I'm so shocked. Malfoy still hates me. Call St. Mungo's, Harry. I'm going to need help."

"You need help alright," Draco muttered as he accepted two glasses of champagne from the bartender. "Where are your screaming banshees for wives anyhow? They let you two out for the holiday on good behavior?"

Ron smirked as he folded his arms over his chest. "At least we have wives, Malfoy. Last I checked your mummy was still parading you around trying to pawn you off on some poor witch."

"Ron," Harry shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line.

It wasn't a lie and even Draco knew it. Five years on after the war, their world was healing rapidly and people were pairing off. Each of the two dunderheads before him had been married within the last year.

"Pardon me, Weasley, but I think I'll take my bachelorhood to your self-imposed hell with that Brown bint. Potter, you got off easy I'd say. Weaselette is the only sane one of that whole family. Only one with a shred of quidditch talent, too."

Draco turned before either could respond and stalked off back to his mother who appeared to be attempting to chat with a rather nervous looking Longbottom and his wife.

Ron made a rude hand gesture to his back before he turned back to Harry. "Say what you want about him but I still think he's a git."

Harry snorted as he brought his glass of firewhiskey to his lips. "Nothing new there."

"Hey, did you get a chance to talk to her before her meeting with Kingsley this afternoon?"

Harry shook his head as they began the walk back to the table where their wives were waiting. "No, I ran into her long enough for a hug but she promised to meet us for lunch tomorrow and tell us all about Paris."

"Paris," Ron muttered with a shake of his head. "No idea why she took that bloody job anyway. Her family and friends were all here. Even that bleeding cat she loves so much."

"You know well enough why she took the job," Harry told him, a pointed brow lifted high on his forehead.

Ron's face flushed at that and he dipped his chin to his chest. "Alright, so maybe I do. I shouldn't have proposed to her so soon. We were too young then."

"And wrong for each other," Harry added. "Don't forget that. Her parents will be happy to have her back in the country full time now though. Merlin knows arranging the floo calls for them was a pain in the arse."

"Well, at least we'll get to see her a little tonight. She is coming, isn't she?"

Harry nodded, "Of course. But you know once the Daily Prophet photographer," he pointed to the corner near the stage where a wizard was polishing the lens of his camera, "gets sight of her that people won't leave her be."

"Would you," Ginny grinned once they took their seats. "She's been gone for four years now on that job and outside of us, hardly anyone has seen her."

Kingsley chose that moment to step up to the stage and give his holiday speech at the podium. All eyes were on him as he told a few jokes and regaled the audience with some of the Ministry's holiday hijinks the public didn't get to see.

But Draco wasn't listening. It was the same drivel to him as always. Instead, his eyes caught sight of movement in the ballroom's entryway. He saw her before anyone else did. His jaw dropped minutely and he blinked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

She stood unseen, biting her red painted lips unsurely as she surveyed the crowd. Her dress was red to match her lips and contoured to her body until it reached her waist where it flared out and ended just above her knees. The sleeves were capped at her slender shoulders and were it not for the kindness in her eyes, he'd swear she was a Christmas vixen. Whatever the style was, it was assuredly muggle.

In an odd moment of fate, they locked eyes as she studied the crowd still focused on the Minister. Draco swallowed but kept his features neutral, fearing she'd interpret any slight change the wrong way. She blinked and looked away quickly.

Hermione Granger descended the steps as quietly as possible, making her way silently through the crowd as she approached the table where her two best friends were seated. The room broke out in a murmur of whispers and Kingsley must have noticed as he began wrapping up his speech.

Narcissa nudged Draco with her elbow discreetly and leaned over. "Is that…the Granger girl?"

He swallowed again as the room erupted into polite applause and many people took the end of Kingsley's speech as their cue to envelop Granger in greetings.

Most hadn't had the luxury of seeing the female third of the golden trio in person since she left England. She'd worked one year at the Ministry and dated that ginger rodent before she abruptly left the country for a liaison position at the French Ministry just as news of their breakup hit the papers.

Draco didn't realize he was staring as he nodded. "Yes, it appears so," was all he could manage.

Narcissa studied her son closely and stole another look at the witch for herself. She was on the short side, as she remembered the girl, and those curls were at least somewhat managed. She was slender and lacked the decorum Narcissa sought in most others as she observed the witch tip her head back in a loud guffaw at something the Potter boy said to her.

It would do well for Draco to make nice with her. For one, her son had the tendency to be rather broody. She wanted his conscience to be free. And it never hurt to make good business connections.

"You should speak to her, Draco. I know you sent her a letter of thanks for her testimonial at your trial but you really should thank her in person. It's polite."

Draco glanced at his mother finally, one pale brow ticked high. "Did you somehow steal another glass…or three…of champagne without my knowing? I can't speak to her. She's likely to slap me like she did our third year."

Narcissa appeared unamused and merely tipped her chin in that all-too-familiar stubbornness which was usually how she got her way. "Draco, it would be good for your soul to make amends officially. You know how I worry over you and your future. Your magic has known too much darkness."

He rolled his eyes to the bewitched ceiling and scowled at the cherubs chasing one another around sprigs of mistletoe. However, he stood without further argument and left the table without another word.

"I'm cancelling her bloody subscription to Witch Weekly," he muttered to himself as he weaved through the crowd of partiers.

With some time, it seemed that people were allowing the poor witch some air though interest in her reappearance in British wizarding society was likely to remain beyond just this Ministry function. Draco could hear the band striking up a familiar holiday tune in the background and couples were rushing past him to fill the middle of the room turned dancefloor.

He paused a few tables away, watching discreetly as she hugged Dean Thomas and Ernie MacMillian who were hovering. Draco nearly physically flinched when Potter caught his eyes. Harry smirked at him before he leaned over and whispered something in his wife's ear. Ginny Potter then turned to look at him as well and her own grin grew. The couple stood from the table and began moving in his direction, to dance it would seem. Draco stepped to the side to clear their path but they stopped in front of him.

"Malfoy, fancy seeing you here," Ginny grinned at him.

"Yes, because I'm determined to try once again to charm you away from Potter," he smirked at his former classmate.

Harry just rolled his eyes at him, completely used to the blonde's joking by now. "In your dreams, Malfoy."

Draco was unfazed when they brushed past him and took up a spot on the dancefloor. Soon enough, Weasley and his banshee of a wife shuffled by as well and for one blessed moment she was alone.

He approached with caution, careful not to startle as she stood sipping a glass of champagne and observing the couples dancing.

"Finally catch a breath," he managed to say, but his throat was tight with nerves.

Hermione looked up at him and found herself a little startled by his sudden appearance. He was exactly as she last saw him—all sharp angles which he'd grown into since childhood and pale features.

Draco spoke not a word as her eyes carefully took in his appearance. Time healed some wounds and merely lessened the pain of others. He no longer had a single thing he could mock about her appearance and hadn't for some time.

"You look well, Malfoy," she nodded, as if giving her stamp of approval on a work of art. "And yes, thankfully. I tried not to cause a scene but clearly guessed wrong."

"Fancy that," Draco drawled before he could stop himself, "Hermione Granger wrong about something."

She tipped her head curiously, eyes narrowed and focused on his own grey ones. "It's rare but I'm not perfect."

Draco opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut with a click of his teeth and watched as she glanced around him, something catching her attention and his brow furrowed when she groaned.

"Merlin, not _him_."

He managed a quick glance over his shoulder to find Cormac McLaggen striding rather ungracefully through the crowd. The man was bumping into people left and right in his haste to reach her and looked like a fool doing so.

Spurred by momentary insanity or borrowed Gryffindor courage, he'd never know, Draco held his hand out to her, palm up.

"It's me or him, though I'll admit I'm very few people's favorite."

Hermione focused on his pale hand, large and noticeably bare on his ring finger.

"A snake or a rat in lion's skin," she muttered with a shake of her head as she set her glass on the table. "I'll take my chances with the snake."

Draco couldn't help his amusement when she placed her hand in his but managed not to allow it to slow him down. He turned and pulled her along, managing a smirk for McLaggen who paused to watch them pass.

The tune changed to a mellow number perfect for swaying as they reached the dancefloor. Draco turned to her and carefully rested a hand on her waist. He felt the burn of her warm skin against his when she gripped his hand, her other coming up to rest on his bicep.

She looked anywhere but him for the first few bars of the song but he found himself unable to look away from her. Her hair was a bit shorter than he recalled, the curls bouncing just past her shoulders. She still favored parting her hair to one side and he wondered about the rose gold snowflake she'd used to pin one side back.

Draco cleared his throat and she turned her focus back to him. "I take it from your reappearance that you've transferred back to this Ministry here?" He spoke loud enough for the couples dancing near them to hear.

Hermione lifted a pointed brow but nodded, "I have. It was time really. Paris was lovely for a while but I missed home and my parents."

"And you finally forgave the ginger rodent for calling things off?" He ticked a pale brow high when she narrowed her eyes at him in silent warning. He smirked. "I can read, Granger. Most everyone assumed when the news of your transfer and your breakup emerged at the same time that you were distancing yourself from certain people."

Hermione grumbled something under her breath. "I won't deny needing my space but things have been fine between Ron and me for ages now. Besides, it was mutual. We were wrong for each other."

He snorted and smirked down at her. "Well, I could have told you that."

"Because you know me so well, Malfoy," she quipped hotly.

He lifted his shoulder in a shrug before he released one of her hands to twirl her. He brought her right back smoothly and smirked. "True but keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Besides, you're too good for him."

It was her turn to lift an incredulous brow as she swayed with him, neither aware of any curious onlookers, particularly his mother as they struck up a comfortable banter with one another.

"Do be careful, Malfoy or I might begin to believe you have some measure of respect for me."

He swallowed and released her for one more twirl, but this time pulling her a bit closer. "It's Draco and perhaps I do."

Hermione softened slightly in his hold, unable to look away from his eyes. She'd not known what to think when she saw him picking his way through the crowd to her. Minus what she heard about him or his mother in the Prophet she still maintained a subscription to, she could tell the years had been rough for him. It wasn't in his face, as she hated to admit it but he'd grown into those pointy features. And thankfully, it wasn't in his hair which he chose to still crop short unlike his father. It was in his eyes. She could see the years of struggle, the stress from doing everything possible to change people's minds about him.

"Draco," she copied him. She savored the taste of his name on her tongue. "That would be quite the improvement," she tipped her head curiously again, "But I have it on good authority that you've done quite a bit of that over the years."

The song ended and everyone clapped politely. Draco released his hold on her, but not really wanting to. She felt warm in his hands and he'd not realized just how cold he truly was.

"I assume you had a reason for seeking me out that had nothing to do with trying to ask me to dinner or nosing into my business," she commented when they separated.

Draco ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded. "I wanted to thank you."

Hermione's brows lifted high. "Thank me?"

He nodded, undeterred by her confusion. His eyes shifted pointedly to where his mother was speaking with some older witches a few tables away. "Yes, for speaking on my behalf. I never had the opportunity to do so in person and I wanted to say thank you."

She drew the corner of her lower lip between her teeth as she followed his gaze. She nodded once she understood.

"You already thanked me. You wrote me a letter."

His lip curled slightly against his best efforts to control the reaction. "Accept it or not, Granger."

Instead of becoming indignant at his tone, her mouth curled in amusement and she nodded. "You're welcome, Draco. And don't you think you can call me Hermione?"

Draco opened his mouth to respond but was cut short by the supposed 'rat in lion's skin'.

"Hermione," Cormac greeted with a wide grin as he sidled up to the two of them. "Good to see you back. I was hoping to take you lunch. Maybe this weekend? Hear about your time in France and all that."

Draco watched the expression in her eyes waver and could tell she wanted to roll them at the git. However, she smiled kindly, preparing some sort of response.

"It's good to see you as well," she lied. "I'd really love to but—"

"She can't," Draco interrupted before he could stop himself. She bit her lip as she locked gazes with him, imploring him to continue with whatever tactic he had to get her out of it. "She can't because...she's already agreed to have lunch with me."

Cormac's face twisted into an unattractive scowl as he finally acknowledged the blond. He rested his hands on his hips and glanced between them.

"Seriously? Like I'd believe that. Hermione wouldn't want to spend time with a prick like you."

"But I did agree to lunch," she interrupted this time, nodding towards Draco. "Draco was going to tell me about his business buying and selling artifacts. I've a new flat to furnish, you see, and he's offered his help in obtaining some items for me."

"Exactly," Draco agreed. "Now scamper off, McLaggen. You're ruining what little Christmas cheer I have left and it's only December 2nd. I still have at least twenty-three days left to morph into Scrooge and most wouldn't like to expedite the process."

Cormac muttered something rather rude under his breath and stalked off through the crowd.

"Tosser," Draco snorted. He glanced back down at the witch in front of him. "Furnishing your flat?"

Hermione shrugged, "It was the best I could think of and once I said it, I realized it wasn't a terrible idea if you're up for it."

Draco eyed her outstretched hand and grasped it in a firm shake. "It's a deal."

The light chiming of bells drew their attention above their heads. A bit of mistletoe was tangling above them, wrapped with red ribbon and two tiny bells. Draco scowled at it, afraid of looking down to see her reaction. They'd have to kiss or the bloody thing wouldn't let them go.

Hermione was biting her lip when he chanced a look but she didn't appear disgusted as one might have expected. Instead, she merely shook her head and braced a hand on his shoulder without warning. Draco held his breath as she came closer, the scent of her perfume now evident. Something floral and calming and he wanted to bathe in it.

Hermione noticed the stiffness in his posture but ignored it. He may not want this little display but they had little choice. She carefully pressed her lips against his cheek for a short count of three before dropping back to her heels.

Upon seeing his stunned expression, she smiled kindly. "The Ministry in Paris was rather fond of the magicked mistletoe as well. I can tell you that one time getting slobbered on by some half-drunk dolt was enough for me to research it a bit further. A kiss on the cheek is sufficient to be released from the spell. Most people just interpret it rather literally."

Draco nodded, wide-eyed and cleared his throat. "Give your academic brain my thanks," he muttered robotically. "I'll owl you about lunch."

Hermione nodded, her hand coming to her mouth to hide her amusement at his reaction as he turned on heel and stalked back across the ballroom.


	2. Her Secret

**Thank you, thank you! I know I haven't posted anything in a quite a while and I really appreciate the huge response! I'm going to do my best to have this all posted by the holiday. I hope you enjoy the second chapter. Please read and review!**

* * *

 **Two**

Hermione watched as her breath puffed out in front of her. The street light changed and she joined the crowd of holiday shoppers as they crossed. It was snowing lightly and she'd forgotten her hat at home in her rush to leave. With most of her things still in boxes, she'd been running late in her efforts to locate her favorite winter coat and scarf. As she was nearly out the door and checking her watch, she mentally berated herself for forgetting that she could cast a simple _accio_ to find the packed items. Her efforts at not being overly reliant on magic sometimes ended up making her look like the fool.

She turned the corner and the familiar façade of the Leaky Cauldron appeared in front of her. Muggles passed, completely uninterested and unable to see it. She slipped inside unnoticed and stood in the doorway as she began unlooping her scarf and shaking snow from her hair. The heat of the room and the jovial chatter hit her nearly immediately. She stuffed her scarf into her bag and pulled the morning's copy of the Prophet from deep within the magically enlarged interior.

Hermione slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet down on the aged table before she slid into her seat with a huff. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all quirked amused brows at her rare flare for the dramatics.

"Well, welcome back then," Ginny quipped as she watched her slip out of her coat.

Hermione sighed heavily as she rested her hand on the table, drumming her nails against the wood. She gestured towards the paper with her free hand. "Have none of you read this rubbish?"

Ginny and Harry both looked straight to Ron and he shrugged.

"What? You know I have. Or at least Lavender read it to me over breakfast."

Hermione scoffed and accepted the butter beer that sailed through the air from Tom behind the bar. She really had missed so many things about London, particularly the nostalgia of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Ron rolled his eyes at her and nudged a basket of chips towards her suggestively. "Yeah, yeah. She's an annoying bint. Try telling me something people don't say about my wife. And have a chip. You're looking peckish."

Hermione held her tongue on insulting his wife. Despite that she'd never gotten on well with Lavender in school, she wasn't one for insulting people's spouses. She took a couple of chips as he'd suggested and did feel a bit better.

"What's it say anyway," Harry asked, turning the paper around to read the cover.

"One of those sodding bastards from the Prophet took a picture of Draco and me dancing together. Just read the bloody headline!"

"Malfoy Heir to Court Muggle-born Bride," Harry questioned, his brown knit together. He didn't notice as Ron mouthed 'Draco' in confusion. "All you did was dance. And that was to dodge McLaggen."

"Exactly," Hermione nodded. "We fibbed to McLaggen about me meeting him for lunch to talk business but I really do need furnishings for my new flat. I want some historical items for the library."

"I love that you haven't changed in the slightest," Ginny shook her head, grinning.

"Rumor has it the git is in the market for a wife though," Ron smirked and waggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she snapped the end of a chip between her teeth. She made a point to ignore Ginny's pointed stare. "I wouldn't know. I don't follow gossip."

"You still got the Prophet in Paris, didn't you," he asked.

She gave him a dark look and rolled her eyes. "I did but I don't read that rubbish. I skip anything written by Rita Skeeter. How that woman still has a job is beyond me."

"Well, just be forewarned. Lavender's heard from Madam Malkins herself that his mother is pushing him to find a witch and settle down. From what they say, he's rarely seen with women these days. Chances are any time he is, they'll latch onto that and match them together for a quick headline," Ron warned.

"Oh please," she reached for a menu from the table, "I'm not concerning myself with foolish Diagon Alley gossip."

Harry waved a dismissive hand, "Enough of that rubbish. When are you starting work at the Ministry?"

Hermione set the menu down, already deciding on classic fish and chips, and smiled. "Monday. Kingsley couldn't get me to start soon enough, I think."

"I guess not," Ginny quipped, "He's had to deal with the French minister's smug taunting that they stole you away so quickly for the last few years."

She rolled her eyes again, sharing an awkward glance with Ron. "The French minister, while rather brilliant, is a pompous twat. I won't miss him in the least."

"Well, if anyone deserves the Assistant Head position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, it's you, Hermione," Harry lifted his drink in salute.

She grinned and lifted her glass to everyone else's in salute. The glasses clinked and they all took a generous sip, ignoring the prying eyes everywhere. If not for being the Golden Trio, then the curiosity stemmed from her reappearance.

Hermione loathed the attention but fighting it was useless. She had many reasons for coming back home but one was that she couldn't hide forever. France had been lovely but it would never be home for her. She just hoped with a bit of time that people's interest would die down.

The four of them enjoyed a casual lunch with blessedly few interruptions. Hermione declined their offer to join them in watching an intramural quidditch match that Ginny was playing in that afternoon. Ron had snickered raucously before Hermione sent a mild stinging jinx at him when he taunted her by telling her Malfoy would be playing on the opposing team.

Instead, she said her goodbyes and promised to meet Harry and Ron for lunch on Monday when she started back at the Ministry. She crossed back into Muggle London and felt herself relax almost immediately once she mixed in with the crowd of people. They had no clue who she was and it was a wonderful feeling.

The doorman to her building tipped his hat in greeting as he held the door open for her. She didn't plan on staying there long but it was a nice building and close enough to the Ministry that she wouldn't need even need to apparate.

She unlocked her door and discretely dropped the wards. She dropped her bag on the clean countertop and sighed. Having been back for only three days, most of her things were still packed away. One box in particular had been unpacked though. Her battered copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ lay on her coffee table. Her tea kettle waited for her on the kitchen stove. And a few pictures rested on her mantle.

Hermione approached the pictures slowly as she shed her coat and dropped it on over the back of her sofa. Her parents beamed up at her from one and she made a mental note to confirm their scheduled lunch for Sunday. Harry and Ron waved at her in a loop from when they both last visited her together in Paris.

Her eyes fell on the last two. She felt her chest seize in longing at the sight of them. She pushed the thought aside and moved on to her bedroom. There would be time to deal with that later.

She spent the afternoon unpacking the essentials and reviewing the documents Kingsley had sent her regarding her new department and the details surrounding the Quidditch World Cup in the summer. She felt horribly scattered-brained and would have forgotten to eat if it hadn't been for the owl that dropped off dinner for her from her favorite bistro.

Hermione cast a warming charm non-verbally as she took a seat on the small loveseat on her balcony. It was much too cold to be outside so late at night but the floo wasn't set up yet and apparating inside the flat would alert the muggle neighbors.

A loud crack disturbed the air around her but she didn't bother looking behind her.

"You're late," she muttered, shivering despite her charm and the heavy blanket she'd wrapped around herself.

"I sent dinner for you earlier. Merlin knows you'd have forgotten to eat again if I didn't." The man approached her side and waited for her attention. "My mother wanted to talk and held me up."

Hermione finally lifted her head to meet Draco's grey eyes. Dressed in all black, his pale features stood out in stark contrast.

He tipped his head towards the sliding glass doors which led onto the balcony. "Let's go inside. It's too cold out here."

She nodded and wrapped the blanket tighter around herself as she maneuvered around him in the small space. She felt the pressure of his hands on her shoulders guiding her inside. Once he was in behind her, she locked and warded the door with a single spell.

She tossed the blanket back to the sofa where she'd taken it and turned to face him. The fireplace crackled behind him, illuminating his dark presence. Dressed impeccably as one could expect of him, his black boots were free of scuffs, his overcoat had specks of melting snow but he was otherwise picture perfect.

However, he was an oddity amongst the many unpacked boxes littering the flat. She watched as he surveyed the surroundings and rolled her eyes when his lip curled in predictable disdain.

"It's too small," he told her, turning back to face her.

"It wasn't for you to decide," she countered haughtily as she took a few tentative steps towards him.

He scoffed in the back of his throat but didn't argue. Instead, his eyes took a moment to survey her from head to toe. Dressed in the too large jumper and her wool tights, her heart stuttered in her chest from his heated gaze.

"When the hell did you manage to nick that," he gestured to the grey jumper.

Hermione glanced down at it, thinking back. "Last month, I think. You didn't notice it missing when you packed your bag?"

Draco snorted and shucked his long overcoat before he fell back onto the sofa. "How would I have? You packed it for me."

She licked her lips nervously when he held his hands out expectantly and padded across the hardwood floor in her socked feet. She braced herself with her palms against his chest as she rested a knee on either side of his hips. She sighed when he circled her waist with both arms and pulled her as close as he could. His familiar warmth was a balm for her worn nerves.

"You'd already stayed longer than you were supposed to. Merlin knows you have the most abhorrent packing skills."

Draco smirked at her haughty tone but didn't argue. Instead, he shifted her weight enough to reach into his front pocket. He retrieved a silver band which he held between his thumb and forefinger for her to see.

Hermione softened considerably and turned towards her bedroom doorway down the hall. " _Accio_ ," she whispered.

She caught the summoned objects with a soft clink as they zoomed into her palm. She held out the two rings in front of him, mirroring his gesture.

Draco reached up and brushed his free thumb across her lower lip before he took the rings in her hand. He watched her eyes closely as he settled first the diamond ring and then the matching band on her ring finger. He pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles and grinned when she shivered under his touch.

Hermione took the silver band from his hand and slid it on his ring finger. She framed his face with both hands and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I've missed you," she breathed as they separated.

"I promise not as much as I've missed you," he assured her.


	3. From Paris

**I threw a bit of a curve ball there, didn't I? ;) If you reread the first chapter, you'll see I dropped some very subtle hints that make more sense after the second chapter. Because you spoiled me with so many lovely reviews, I'd like to return the favor to you all. I hope you enjoy! Please read and review!**

* * *

 **Three**

 _One Year Prior_

Hermione cursed the crowds of people visiting Paris in December. Christmas was fast approaching and it seemed tourists were flocking to the area. It didn't matter how long she'd lived there, she just couldn't stand the sudden influx of people in the already crowded city.

She huddled deeper in her coat as she rushed along the sidewalk, dodging the random couple or two that was too busy staring at a city map or their phone to notice they were about to run into someone. She ducked into her favorite café, intent to get a cup of coffee on her way to the French Ministry.

The line was longer than usual but not by enough to put her off her schedule. She stepped up behind a tall man in a dark coat and pulled her gloves from her hands in order to access her bag better.

The line moved and she stepped forward when the man in front of her approached the counter. She hardly registered his broken French, so used to it from all the tourists. She was too busy digging around in her bag, cursing her own undetectable extension charm, to notice when he began to turn and that he stepped backwards in doing so. The sudden rush of warm liquid sprayed her dress through her open coat and she squeaked at the foreign and unexpected sensation.

"Je suis…tellement désolé!" He was quick to apologize. "C _'_ _est…ma faute_ _."_

Hermione shook her head, not having even gotten a good look at him, as she tried to wave him off. They stepped aside from the line so she could assess the damage. It was inconvenient of course but nothing she couldn't solve with a quick charm once she was out of the shop. However, a muggle wouldn't know that.

"Ne t'inquiète," she told him.

She looked up finally and froze when she saw his face. He was flustered and his face was pink with embarrassment but she'd recognize that hair anywhere. He was still too busy reaching for paper towels behind him to notice her yet.

He finally turned to her and looked up from the coffee on her dress to her face and froze as well. His tongue darted out to lick over his lower lip and she thought for a millisecond that he may disapparate to escape her, right there in a coffee shop full of muggles.

"Granger," he choked out after a moment.

Hermione lifted a single brow and reached for the paper towels in his frozen hands. Their fingers brushed but she ignored the rush of fire and the gooseflesh it left in its wake. He released them suddenly, realizing he was gaping at her.

"Malfoy," she greeted in kind, nodding to him as she began swiping at the front of her dress. "Fancy seeing you in Paris."

Draco swallowed as he watched her try to clean as much as she could. He understood now why she wasn't as frustrated with him as any other woman likely would have. Knowing her, she'd know the perfect charm to get the mess right out of her dress as if it had never happened.

"Seriously, Granger, my apologies. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"And as I said, don't worry about it."

She tossed the soiled paper towels in the closest bin and looked up at him. She offered him a small, friendly smile in hopes that he would relax. He looked far too tense. His shoulders relaxed some and she glanced over his shoulder to find the normal barista holding out a coffee to her. She stepped around Draco to take it and slid the appropriate amount of money to her.

"You must come here often," Draco noted as he followed her out of the café, what was left of his coffee still in hand.

For whatever reason, Hermione didn't question it when he fell in step with her. People knew she lived in France and had for some time. It wasn't unlikely that he was ignorant to her current occupation. Was he just following her or was he also headed in the direction of the French ministry?

"It's on my way to work," she nodded finally.

She spared a glance up at him and finally looked him over for once. Clean shaven, she was oddly pleased to see he'd not taken up his father's hairstyle in adulthood. The war far enough behind them now, she realized she knew next to nothing about him minus what she read of his business in the Prophet. The pictures they used didn't do him much justice though. He'd grown into his sharp angles and she swore he must have grown another inch post war because she hardly reached his nose in her sensible heels. He was broader, too but that made some sense. She vaguely recalled either Harry or Ron mentioning that he played intramural quidditch on an opposing team.

"What brings you to Paris," she asked since he appeared to be sticking by her side at least for now.

"Business," he noted. "I'm attempting to get a permit to trade here in France. Everything is solid in the UK now. I want to expand. After France, I have a meeting in Spain then Germany and Italy."

"You'll be headed to the Ministry then. No wonder you've not bolted yet," she smirked up at him.

Draco frowned at her when they stopped for a traffic light. His brow creased in the middle and she swore his eyes darkened the slightest to mirror that of rain clouds.

"I know it's been some time, Granger, but I'm not like that anymore."

It was her turn to flush with embarrassment. She looked ahead again as the light changed and they crossed together. She was all too aware of his brooding silence as he strode along at her side.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean it like that," she finally said after a block.

"It's alright," he shrugged but he didn't look at her as he said it.

They walked along in silence for a few more blocks before the familiar façade of the Ministry came into view. Muggles were magically repelled from the area, making it easier to slip in and out unnoticed behind a large gargoyle.

Hermione pulled her wand from her bag and once within the parameter of safety, she quickly removed the stain from her dress.

"Well," she said after she stowed her wand again, "I suppose this is where we part unless you don't know where you're going."

Draco shook his head as he passed his paper cup between his hands. "No, I'm familiar. I've been here a few times before now."

"Right," she nodded. She turned to go but stopped short when she felt a large hand around her upper arm.

"Granger," Draco spoke. He swallowed when she turned to face him and he dropped his hand. "If you're free this evening, I'd like to take you to dinner to make up for the coffee."

She shook her head, a denial already forming on her lips before he spoke again.

"I know that I don't have to," he surmised for her, "But I'd really like to…if you're interested."

He lifted his brows and she wondered if there was a double meaning to his words. However, driven by some form of insanity or maybe it was the holiday cheer as she could hear the familiar notes of one of her favorite Christmas songs wafting through the air, she nodded.

"Okay, where?"

She watched as one corner of his mouth drew up into what seemed like a familiar smirk. However, there was something different in that smirk now. No longer rooted in disdain and arrogance, it made him look happy and possibly even relieved.

"There's a little bistro I like to go to when I visit. It's not far from my hotel and the café where we met. Arnaud Nicolas."

"I know it," she nodded.

That small smirk grew into a full smile. "Perfect. I'll meet you for six o'clock."

Hermione watched as he turned on heel and disappeared through the visitor's entrance.

Was that seriously the same Draco Malfoy she'd gone to school with? The same one who'd called her a mudblood and wrote her a note of gratitude for speaking on his behalf during his trial?

He certainly looked the same, minus the normal changes from maturing, and he sounded the same. However, there was something in his presence that was far removed from that boy.

For the rest of her day, she had trouble focusing on her work, too busy replaying the encounter in her mind. It was probably foolish to meet him. He had nothing to apologize for at this point. The war was behind them and she'd forgiven him ages ago. And it was just a coffee spill. Why did he feel the need to drag this out?

More so, why was she so intrigued?

She passed the argument around in her head until she felt nearly mental by the end of the day. She glanced up from her work at a quarter to six and debated on just not going. Perhaps he wasn't serious and didn't truly expect her to show. Then she'd look really stupid, wouldn't she? But her logical side told her he wasn't pretending.

With a sigh, she gathered her belongings and rushed out the door.

Draco had been early when he arrived. He was nervous. There was a strong chance she may not show. He'd not given her any reasons in the past to think he was sincere. She might think he was pranking her. However, he hoped he was wrong.

He requested a table near a window so he could see her coming if she showed. He knew she'd left London a few years ago after she'd broken things off with Potter's ginger shadow but she somehow managed to keep the Prophet out of most of her business. The only glimpses of her that wizarding Britain ever got were when she came back for brief visits with her friends.

He'd always been secretly intrigued by those photos, particularly the one last year when they'd snapped one of her out to lunch with her parents near the holidays. She'd changed so much and yet so little. Or maybe it was he who'd changed because he no longer saw a bushy-haired annoyance when he looked at her. Looking at her now made his breath catch, though he'd not admit it to anyone aloud for fear of being mocked.

But seeing her today was proof enough. Paris looked good on her. Everything about her was practically the same—same curly hair falling just past her shoulders, same chocolate-colored eyes…but there was something different, too. She seemed more confident in herself. She dressed more confidently than he recalled. Demure as always but there was something alluring about her as well. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

Surprise seized in his chest when he spotted her hurrying along the sidewalk, snow falling in her hair. He swallowed and stood when he heard the bell over the door chime and she appeared in the doorway. They made eye contact and he watched as she wove through the smattering of tables in the small restaurant.

"I'm not late, am I," she asked as she removed her coat and took her seat across from him.

Draco glanced at the watch on his wrist, a present from his mother on his birthday, and shook his head. "Two minutes past. I'll give you credit for the snow falling."

Hermione chuckled at his dry humor and sighed as she finally met his eyes again. "I don't know where this snow came from so suddenly."

"You don't like snow," he questioned. He gave a polite nod to the server who dropped off two glasses of the wine he'd ordered in advance.

Hermione lifted her brows in surprise at the wine but reached for her glass. She lifted the rim under her nose and gave it a sniff before bringing the glass to her lips. He'd chosen a sweet red and she felt relieved that his taste obviously mirrored her own as the liquid washed over her tongue.

"I like it well enough," she answered him as she set her glass down again. "This is my favorite time of year really. However, I didn't quite wear the right shoes for it."

"You could always charm them to avoid slipping," he offered and handed her a menu.

She shrugged, "I could but I have a personal preference for not using magic for every little thing." She looked over the top of her menu. "Muggleborn, if you recall."

A slight smirk lifted one corner of his mouth and he glanced down at his menu. "I could never forget, Granger."

Hermione chose something at random, not being a very picky eater and set her menu aside. "I honestly didn't think you of all people would."

Draco set his menu aside as well and their server took that as invitation to return. They gave their orders and he folded his hands on the table as he faced her head on.

"I think of it as a positive attribute now more than a hindrance."

Hermione brought her wine glass to her mouth again, acutely aware this time that he watched the move closely. "Do tell," she muttered before taking a sip.

"You have access to two worlds at once," he noted. "While some could struggle having been born in one and then suddenly thrown into another, you thrived. I realized a long time ago how short-sighted we were. I admire all that you've accomplished."

She felt her face flush and knew she hadn't had enough yet for it to be the wine.

"Thank you, Draco."

His name spilled over her lips before she even knew what she was saying but she couldn't take it back. She didn't want to—not when she saw the smile that transformed his face when she did.

"You're welcome, Hermione."

A shiver ran the length of her spine at the sound of her name on his tongue. Merlin help her, she knew she was in trouble. Just what kind of trouble had she gotten herself into?

Conversation with most men was a strain when it came to dating. She often felt awkward with their flirting or they appeared put off by her intelligence. Talking to him was neither of those things. While he'd changed in so many ways, his wit was intact. He was sarcastic and his humor could be a bit dry. There were still traces of his arrogance running through the threads of this man he'd grown into but not to the point of turning her off as it once had.

Draco paid the bill when it came, realizing with a laugh that they'd stayed talking over dinner and dessert for over two hours. He escorted her out with a hand on her lower back to guide her and he was relieved when she leaned into the touch instead of flinching away.

There was something in the air between them. It was growing and burning and he didn't want to let it go just yet.

He held his hand out to her as they stepped onto the sidewalk. "Walk with me for a bit?"

In Paris, they weren't a former Death Eater or a war hero. They weren't a Gryffindor or a Slytherin. They were merely a man and a woman—and an undeniable spark between them.

Hermione swallowed but laid her hand in his. His long fingers wrapped around her hand and he squeezed gently as he lowered their clasped hands between them.

The walk along the Champ de Mars was lit for the season. Lights dotted trees and music could be heard from a street musician. The Eiffel Tower ahead was lit for the holidays as well and was quite the sight. Hermione never truly got tired of it.

"Do you like Christmas," Draco asked after observing her smile.

She nodded as they walked along, the Eiffel Tower coming closer and closer. "I do. I make sure to go home for it every year. My parents cook a big dinner and we trade presents. It's just the three of us but it's really nice and cozy. I miss that. What about you?"

Draco glanced down at her to meet her curious gaze and shrugged. "I like it well enough. It was never a very warm holiday at the manor though. Mother prefers her traditions and then there's always the Christmas ball she likes to host. Attendance was understandably sparse after the war but it's picked up again. Would you believe she even invited Potter and Weasley last year?"

Hermione tried not to laugh but she couldn't help it. He smiled at her when she did so at least he wasn't offended.

"I heard about it, yes. Ron was especially testy about it. Harry and Ginny made him go with Lavender. An olive branch is an olive branch, Harry said."

He shrugged but didn't disagree. "She's still set in her ways on some things but I'd like to believe she's progressed."

"Progressed enough to be okay with this," Hermione asked, lifting their joined hands suggestively.

Somewhere along the way _this_ had progressed beyond just being a dinner to make up for an accident to what appeared to be the beginnings of something more intimate. For once, she wasn't fighting it.

He swallowed and averted his gaze to admire the familiar landmark in front of them. He dropped her hand as he turned to face her and both missed the warmth.

"I don't want to lie to you, Hermione. My mother can be an elitist and in some ways she's still stupidly traditional. She still has her eyes set on me making an arranged marriage for me with someone within our social circle."

Hermione averted her eyes from his and ran her tongue along her lips as she considered his words. She glanced up again, "I see. So this is just…" She shook her head with a heavy sigh. "So what was this then? Because I believe you went from wanting to merely apologize to…flirting with me, unless I'm mistaken."

"You're not," he spoke up quickly. Her expression was beginning to turn sour and he feared that he hadn't made enough progress with her to save the moment between them.

"Fine, then what were you expecting here? If your mother intends to marry you off to some pureblood princess then why are you still standing here with me? I know the misconceptions some of you still have about muggleborns so if you're just looking for a quick shag in a foreign city then you can just—"

She clamped her mouth shut when she felt both of his hands framing her cheeks. He lifted her face to meet his eyes and she didn't remember feeling him step closer.

"I'm not," he assured her softly. "I didn't plan on running into you this morning but I don't regret it. Just because my mother has plans for me doesn't mean I'm going to agree to any of it. I find I quite like you. And if you're open to it, I'd like to take you out again before I leave this weekend. And if that goes well, I'd like to keep coming back."

Hermione stared into his eyes while her heart hammered in her chest. She hadn't exactly planned on falling in love when she'd gotten ready for work that morning but it appeared her heart had a mind of its own because she felt it take the first step forward.

"That…that sounds awfully expensive on the travel side, given the cost of international portkeys."

Draco's mouth pulled up in that newish smirk of his and he leaned down slowly. He gave her ample time to change her mind, time to push him away but she never did. Instead, Hermione tilted her head back and accepted his kiss when he pressed his lips to hers softly. Once, twice, and on the third he tugged her lower lip gently before he pulled back enough to see her face again.

"I promise I'm good for it. I won't be running low on funds just because I found myself a girlfriend in another country."

Her own mouth pulled into a slight smile and she reached up to smack his chest between them. "You're still a bit of a git, did you know?"

"I think you like it," he grinned and leaned in to kiss her again.

* * *

PS: I utilized the internet for my French translations. I tried to be as accurate as possible but if I'm mistaken please don't come at me with tons of corrections. It's not my second language so it won't really matter in the long run. Thank you for your understanding!


	4. Out of the Bag

**Thank you for all of your lovely reviews! This one has been fun to write so far and I hope you enjoy the next chapter. Please read and review. :)**

* * *

 **Four**

It was early the next morning when Hermione began to wake. As always, it was in stages. She heard his calm breathing before she felt his chest rising and falling at her back. She sensed the warmth of his arm around her before she felt his fingertips curling around her hip. A low groan deep in his throat pushed her further into consciousness as well as the way he ground himself against her lower back.

She inhaled a deep breath as she cracked her eyes open finally. The morning light was dull coming in through the crack in her drapes. If she had to guess, it was likely snowing again. She flipped over onto her other side, nudging his arm in the process. Draco grumbled something under his breath before his eyelids lifted and she was met with his grey eyes.

He wrapped his arms back around her and pulled her closer. "We need to come clean so I don't have to wake up alone anymore," he sighed. "I want this every day now."

Hermione pressed a soft kiss just over his heart and his warm skin seared her lips. "I know," she whispered. It was too early to speak loudly. "Your mother is the real problem."

"Don't remind me," he grumbled to himself.

Draco suddenly rolled them until she was on her back and tucked neatly under him. His searching lips founds hers and quickly set to work in stoking the flame to build her fire back into the burning mass that had made her beg him last night. It had been like that between them from the start. He should have known she'd be full of fire considering her personality.

Though both had been with at least one other person before they found each other again, they didn't consummate the relationship until their wedding night. Everything happened so fast between them and she'd been so uncertain still until he'd convinced her to make the commitment.

 _"She's going to push me to begin looking for a wife at the Christmas ball," he told her when he visited the week of his birthday. "I just know it."_

 _Hermione sat silently across from him at their favorite brunch spot. Her gaze fell to the tabletop and she felt her heart lurch to her gut. The last six months had been wondrous and often she felt she might be dreaming whenever he visited. Never before had she been pursued so relentlessly and the romance in his gestures was intoxicating. He knew better than to try and ply her with too many material things and instead focused his attention in engaging her curiosities. They spent afternoons getting lost in museums and evenings cooking together._

 _She wasn't ready to give him up yet…if ever._

 _When she finally looked up again, her breath caught in her throat and her heart jumped back in place. He was kneeling in front of her with a ring perched between his fingers and offered up. She was vaguely aware of the few other patrons watching the scene play out but too engrossed to really care about the extra attention._

 _"I know it hasn't been long and you'd probably be a fool to say yes but I don't want anyone else. Marry me, Hermione Granger."_

 _Hermione didn't even realize she'd started crying until after she nodded her head and he slipped the ring on her finger. His thumbs cleared away the twin trails down her cheeks before he pressed his mouth to hers._

That had been six months ago and against all of her normal reservations, they'd married that night. His visits increased as they determined how to get her back to England and exactly how to tell the world just what they'd done. Impulse wasn't something she generally indulged but thus far she'd not regretted her decision.

Hermione lay panting on his chest, still unable to catch her breath after he'd sent her body over the edge with him. He had a knack for that. He worked so hard to please her and she selfishly loved it.

She pulled a deep breath past her lips and nestled her head under his chin. She could feel him playing with the ends of her hair, curling the strands around a finger and giving them a gentle tug before he released them to begin again. It was his regular habit now. He loved to toy with the curls he'd once mocked.

"How is it that you've kept her from seeing my name appear on your family's tapestry?"

Draco shifted until they were sitting up and she had to sit back on her legs to see him properly. He didn't dare take his hands off her though, intent to keep his wife just where she was for as long as she'd allow.

"Pippin cleans the grand library where it's hung. Mother isn't much for recreational reading these days and rarely goes in there."

Hermione nodded in understanding, her fingers preoccupied with tracing the scars along his chest where he'd taken the _Sectumsempra_ curse their sixth year.

"Pippin is your elf, right?"

Draco smiled softly as he nodded. "Yes, and I should have been nicer to her growing up but I've done everything I could to make up for it in recent years. For whatever reason, she hasn't held a grudge. She keeps my secrets though. And she's dying to meet you. She wants to know when there will be children for her to look after."

Hermione's cheeks flushed at the mention of children and she sighed. "Well, I'd love to meet her as well." She rolled her eyes at his lifted a brow, "And I promise not to insult her by trying to free her. From everything you've said that would do more damage than good."

"As the sole heir, I'm the head of the house now. I've changed a number of things in regards to how we treat them."

"Head of house," she muttered as she rolled her eyes again, "so archaic."

Draco took her hands that were now resting on his chest and threaded their fingers together between them. He squeezed gently.

"I know you still aren't keen on having married into one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain." He squeezed her hands when she opened her mouth to protest. "You have my word that if we have a daughter first, she'll be the heir. None of that first son nonsense."

"Thank you," she sniffed primly.

Draco chuckled at her haughty response and pulled her closer to kiss.

 _"Hermione!"_

Hermione jerked back from him when the sound of someone pounding on her door and yelling her name perked her ears.

Draco growled at the interruption and scowled when she left his lap to search for her robe. "I told you this flat is too small. If you can hear someone shouting from down the hall…"

He did enjoy the show of his wife's naked backside before she found her robe and slipped her arms into it. She turned to him as she tied the belt tightly around her waist and lifted a stern finger.

"You stay there and keep your snarky comments to yourself. I don't know who that would be so early on a Sunday morning but you can bet your arse they'll be getting a piece of my mind."

She didn't wait for a sarcastic retort and marched out of the bedroom, intent to do just as she'd said. The hardwood floor was cold under her bare feet as she rushed to the door. She lifted on her toes to have a look through the peephole and groaned as she fell back on her heels.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron were standing on the other side when she opened the door, all holding dishes of some sort. Harry mouthed an apology behind Ron's back and shrugged.

"Morning, Hermione," Ron greeted tiredly, though he didn't appear too happy to be up so early himself.

"Ron…Harry…it's barely…" She glanced at the time on her microwave, "it's hardly eight o'clock. What are you doing here?"

"Mum was worried that you wouldn't have much food in your flat yet and sent Harry and I to deliver some things she cooked for you. Ginny thought it was ridiculous to come so early and honestly so did we but mum insisted. I'm sorry."

Ron shuffled past her without another word and Harry and Ginny followed behind him.

"It really wasn't necessary," she assured him, though she did appreciate that Mrs. Weasley still worried over her. "I do appreciate the gesture though."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. Half of him was bent with his head inside her refrigerator. "There really is nothing in here, Hermione. I'd starve!"

She snorted at that. Typical Ron. Her nerves started to settle as she watched her best friends load dish after dish into her refrigerator. The peace wasn't meant to last though when she heard the bathroom door shut.

Ron stood up straight, brows furrowed as he shut the door and turned to face her. "Did you hear that? Is someone here?"

Hermione swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as her eyes darted between them. Harry was staring at her with wide eyes and Ginny was biting her lip to fight a grin. Ron looked as if he was about to storm off with his wand drawn to hex whoever he thought had stolen away into her flat.

She wrapped her right hand around her left to hide her rings, "Well, I…"

"Hermione, did you bring my toiletries I kept at your place back with you? I had to use your toothbrush."

She watched in horror as Ron's face slowly began to redden until he looked as if his face might truly match his hair. She didn't bother checking Ginny or Harry's face before she glanced over her shoulder.

Draco stood in the doorway with nothing but a towel around his waist looking like a pale, marble Adonis. His hair was messy from bed still and were she not standing between what could potentially be a rather ugly argument, she would have scolded him for using her toothbrush again. He never understood why that bothered her. He thought reminding her that his tongue was often in her mouth would prove there was really no difference but she never bought the argument. Tell that to her dentist parents!

She bit her lip at the surprised expression on his face and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "Your things are in the bag under the sink. I haven't had the chance to take them out yet. Go take your shower while I sort this." She turned back quickly, "And _stop_ using my bloody toothbrush!"

Draco gave a rather exaggerated roll of his eyes and nodded but not before glaring directly at Ron. He shuffled back down the hall and everyone jumped when the door slammed loudly.

Ginny pointed her thumb towards the hall and nodded. "Okay, I get it now."

"Hey," Harry protested, eyes narrowed.

She shrugged innocently and folded her arms over her chest. "Just because I can see why Hermione found him attractive doesn't mean I love you any less."

Ron made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and threw his hands up in the air. "Hermione, what the bloody hell is going on," he snapped.

She turned a fierce look on him and poked a stern finger in the center of his chest. "First of all, I'm a grown woman and can do as I please, Ronald. I owe you no explanations. However, because we're friends, I'll explain. Go sit on the sofa while I go change."

He looked like he was going to protest but when she lifted her chin in challenge, his eyes widened and he scurried off to do as she'd said. Harry snorted and leaned down to press a friendly kiss to her forehead as he passed.

"Good morning then," Ginny wagged her eyebrows suggestively as she passed, too.

She huffed and stamped her foot for good measure before stomping down the hall to change. When she reemerged, she found them seated side-by-side and waiting for her. Ron looked like he was about to shit pixies but did the smart thing and kept his mouth closed.

"Well," she sighed as she fell into her armchair, "I suppose the proverbial cat is out of the bag now."

"Cat," Ron questioned, "that's more like a bloody python!"

Hermione was thankful that she could hear the water running and that Draco didn't hear that. Knowing him, he'd have likely made some quip about his house and his endowment. He wasn't generally crude but she just knew he wouldn't have passed on such an easy opportunity.

"Fine, yes, I realize it's a shock and I was going to tell you but…well things have just happened so fast and then we were trying to arrange my transfer here…" she closed her eyes and just breathed for a second. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Ron just shook his head as he digested the news. He glanced at Harry and shoved him slightly.

"Why aren't you more upset about this, Harry? I know you get on with the git better than I do but aren't you upset she kept this from us?"

Harry reached up to adjust his glasses and shrugged. "Well, I mean…Ginny and I kind of knew. We found out right after they were married six months ago."

"Wha— _married_ ," Ron squawked.

Sure enough, his eyes landed on her left hand and for a second Hermione worried he might faint. Or worse—set her books on fire. She made a mental note to watch for his wand.

"Oh, it's too early for this," she moaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"H-how did this happen," Ron stuttered.

Hermione sighed heavily as she slumped into the armchair and frowned at Harry and Ginny who were sitting silently across from her. No help from either of them it seemed.

"It happened just as any relationship happens, Ronald. We met again a year ago in Paris." She huffed before a nostalgic grin graced her mouth. "He bumped into me, quite literally, in a coffee shop. I was getting my morning coffee on the way to work and he was getting his on the way to a business meeting. He spilled coffee all down the front of my dress."

"Smooth," Harry snickered.

Hermione rested her head on a fisted hand as she regarded him with a slight smile. "I can promise you that Draco Malfoy is not the least bit smooth, particularly when he's truly nervous but don't tell him I said that. It was like meeting him all over again without all of the nasty history." She shook her head at the memory, "He hadn't even realized who I was yet when he turned and began falling all over himself apologizing to me in French. Broken French, might I add. Mine is far better."

Ron snorted at that but his grin quickly fell again when he recalled why he was irritated. "Get on with the story, Hermione."

"Right," she sighed. "Anyway, he looked up and saw my face and I swear I thought he was going to wet himself from the surprise. I don't know why but I could tell he wasn't the same boy we'd gone to school with. I'd read the papers about his business of course but it was different seeing him in person. He apologized again and asked me to dinner to make up for it."

"I bet you were the one who nearly wet yourself from shock then," Ginny grinned. She'd heard the story of course but it never seemed to get old.

"Nearly," she agreed. "I debated not going. I mean, it was just a coffee spill. By no means did it mean he needed to make some grand gesture of an apology but I went anyway. We had dinner at a small bistro and took a walk on the Champs de Mars because we couldn't stop talking and then…" her cheeks flushed at the memory but she smiled, "he kissed me goodnight in front of the Eiffel Tower."

She was unaware that Draco had been listening from the doorway to her retelling until he balanced himself on the arm of her chair. Hermione jumped in surprise and swatted his knee when she found him grinning at her.

"It was cheesy," she accused half-heartedly. "And quite predictable."

Draco bumped shoulders with her, smirking. "It was charming and you loved it."

Eyes locked firmly on his, she tugged her lower lip between her teeth. "I did," she admitted quietly.

"Oh, I'm going to vomit," Ron interrupted their tender moment with a groan. "How come Harry and Ginny know but you kept it from everyone else?"

Hermione frowned at his hurt expression. She knew this was going to be a problem eventually but hadn't really known what to do. She certainly never intended to hurt any of her friends.

"Because we uh…" Harry flushed nearly to the roots of his hair, "we kind of walked in on them when we visited last."

"Walked in on…" Ron's face heated another degree of red and he made a gagging sound.

"Not _that_ ," Hermione corrected when she gathered what he assumed and shot a perturbed look at Harry.

"Snogging," Ginny corrected with a chuckle. "We flooed into Hermione's apartment a little early for our weekend visit a few months ago and caught them snogging on her sofa. I've never seen two people separate so fast. You'd have thought they were two blast-ended skrewts with the way they shot to opposite sides of the sofa. The rings gave it all away though. Nice taste by the way, Malfoy."

Draco smirked and nodded. He was giving off the pride of a belligerent peacock who'd just managed to escape a zoo.

"So let me get this straight," Ron interrupted. "You met again a year ago, Malfoy proposed six months after and you eloped, and no one besides Harry and Ginny knew about any of it until just a few months ago?"

"My parents know, too," Hermione admitted. "They've known from the beginning really."

"But not your mother," Ron asked, directing his attention to Draco.

Draco groaned low in his throat. "No, not yet."

Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously and he shifted forward in his seat. "Why, Malfoy? She's good enough for you now but not your mother?"

"I'm the one who didn't want to tell her, Ron," Hermione spoke up, a warning in her tone. "Draco feels certain she'll accept me, even if not immediately. She's still pressing him to agree to an arranged marriage. I'm the one who really didn't want to deal with it. Not with any of it." She glanced up at her husband, "You don't understand. There's no way we could have dated or done anything normal couples do here in England. Honestly, it wasn't especially easy in Paris either considering that people know about the war there as well. I have more anonymity there though. People recognized me but they let me be."

"Trust me, Weasley," Draco added, "I'd shout it from the rooftops if she'd let me. I'm not ashamed of her. If anything, now that she's come home again, it's her who should be ashamed. Can you imagine the things they'll write about her… _us_ …in the Prophet when they get wind of things?"

"We just wanted a normal start, Ron," she pled with him. "I'm so sorry for keeping it from you…it's just that I wasn't sure how well you would take it. I knew he and Harry got on well enough these days but you were just always so distrustful of him. Even when we spoke up for him at his trial."

Hermione watched as her friend and ex sat in silence for a moment. He kept looking between all of them seated in the small living room and his expression changed quickly each time.

After what felt like an eternity, Ron sighed. "I just wished you'd have told me. I would have trusted your judgement, Hermione." He shrugged, "After I'd interrogated the git in the aurors' office though." He sighed and sunk into the couch further. "So he's why you finally decided to come back to England then?"

"Yes and no," Hermione admitted, already feeling some of her tension melting away. She shared a look with Draco and relaxed a tiny bit more when his hand came up to rub gentle lines down her spine. "We never intended to hide our relationship forever. Getting married…it just happened so fast and without a plan."

"I can only imagine what you did to convince Hermione Granger to do _anything_ without a plan," Ginny snickered.

Draco waggled his eyebrows teasingly, entirely unfazed when Hermione slapped his knee. "I don't believe she regrets it."

"Anyway," Hermione continued with a huff, "I couldn't very well stay in Paris and Draco stay in London. And he has a business to run here. I'm the one with the more flexible job. When I contacted Kingsley about a transfer and open positions, he told me Johnson was transferring departments and there was an opening that would be right for me in International Magical Cooperation."

"Can you imagine the field day the Prophet is going to have with this once word gets out," Ginny asked. "A secret love affair and then marriage between two people who once professed to hate each other…Merlin, people are going to eat this up!"

Draco grumbled something to himself and Hermione sighed. Neither was looking forward to the public getting into their business.

"So what are you going to do now," Ron asked, interrupting their little pity party.

Hermione blinked at him. "You mean you're not going to make a bigger deal out of this?"

He shrugged and glanced between them. "What's the point? I feel like a bloody arse that you didn't feel comfortable telling any of us and Ginny and Harry had to find out by accident. That doesn't make us look very good as your friends, does it?"

Hermione truly hadn't known what to expect from Ron. Over the years, his reactions could be expected to fall on a large spectrum so she could always count on him to be a wildcard. It was the fact that she'd married Draco Malfoy that made her count on him to react badly. They may have warmed up to one another to be social but neither were really fans of the other.

"Oh Ron," she gave him a sappy smile and then stood to embrace him in a hug.

Draco rolled his eyes when the Potters stood and they all embraced in a group hug. Had he been feeling more childish, he might have started making gagging noises himself. Instead, he sighed and kept his mouth shut. He knew she'd been working herself into a fit over the last month worrying about how the ginger rodent and the rest of the wizarding commuity would take the news. If there was one thing in life he was selfless about, it was her, so he was relieved that she'd have the support she needed to endure whatever happened next.

After he'd taken as much of their sappiness as he thought he could stomach, he cleared his throat and waited for them to break apart. He shook his head when all four broke apart wiping at their eyes. He pulled Hermione back to him though and waited while the others retook their seats.

"Alright, enough of that. I can only stomach so much," he quipped lightly.

Hermione backhanded his chest and sighed when he caught her arm and used it to pull her closer.

"I'm glad that's out in the open now," she remarked. "Draco can tell you how badly it was weighing on me."

Harry glanced around the flat, "Do you need help unpacking? Mrs. Weasley won't have lunch ready for a bit still. We could stay and help."

"No need," Draco told him. "I don't plan for her to be here long."

"Where are you two going to live once word gets out," Ginny asked.

Hermione glared at her husband before turning to answer her. "That's a bit of a conundrum right now."

Draco growled at the look she gave him. "You won't even try living at the manor? I've told you that room has been remodeled. It looks nothing like it did. And my mother even ordered the removal of all dark artifacts."

She huffed and looked at him like he'd just told her he planned to start a business in training the giants to play quidditch.

"It's the principle of it, Draco. Why would I want to live in a house that its very existence was centered on celebrating hatred of people like me?"

"To prove that we were all idiots and you're very much deserving of the best the wizarding world has to offer," he countered without pause.

"Ooh, good points on both sides," Ginny commented.

"Like hell," Ron countered and gave his sister an incredulous look. "If she steps foot in that house, there's no telling what dark magic is still lingering to get her."

Draco sneered openly. "Now who's the prejudiced arse, Weasley?"

"Enough," Hermione interrupted. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, Draco. For now, we still have to handle telling your mother."

And that wasn't something she was looking forward to at all.


	5. As She Predicted

**Thank you all for taking the time to read and review. Here's the next one!**

* * *

 **Five**

"Say it or I'm not going in."

She huffed and gave him a rather exaggerated glare. "Are you really going to be this childish?"

"All you have to do is say it," he grinned brightly.

Hermione drew a deep breath, placed her right hand over her heart, and grumbled for only him to hear. "I, Hermione Granger, swear that if you, Draco Malfoy, end up blasted on the front page of the Daily Prophet—"

"Or Witch Weekly," he added smugly. "We're going into Muggle London but that doesn't mean their peons won't be lurking around waiting for a glimpse of you."

"Or Witch Weekly," she growled, "for wearing a _less than fashionable coat_ because your wife rushed you out of her flat and insisted you wear the only one packed with her things, that I will allow you to shag me on my office desk _one_ time and _only_ during the lunch hour on the day of _my_ choosing."

Draco's folded arms dropped to his side and he frowned at her. "Your lunch hour? Everyone will be out then."

Hermione lifted her chin and her eyes flashed dangerously, "Exactly. They'll be no one to even attempt to counter my best _muffliato_."

"Now where's the fun in that," he argued and followed her as she proceeded to enter the restaurant where they were meeting her parents.

"You get to have your ridiculous macho satisfaction in knowing we did something inherently inappropriate. What else do you want?"

"You're such a killjoy," Draco grumbled.

He frowned at her self-satisfied smirk when she glanced at him over her shoulder but secretly he loved it. He shook his head and took her hand as they waited for their turn to speak with the muggle hostess. Her parents were already seated and waiting for them.

"Hermione, honey," her mother gushed as she drew her only child into a tight hug.

Hermione chuckled a little at her mother's enthusiasm before she was quickly passed to her father. Draco stood behind his chair patiently waiting to be acknowledged. He knew that they wouldn't attempt to engage him in such a familiar embrace. While the Grangers had never had a single negative to say to him, at least to his face, he knew they weren't particularly comfortable with him—at least her father wasn't anyway. Eloping with their daughter in a foreign country likely wasn't the best route to have taken but they had stood by Hermione's decision once she told them.

"Draco, nice to see you again," her father greeted as they shook hands before taking their seats.

"I'm just so relieved to have our daughter back in the same country," Mrs. Granger sighed.

"Mum," Hermione moaned, "you act like I never visited."

"You did but usually just for the holidays."

Draco rested a hand on her knee closest to him and gave it a gentle squeeze. She'd confided in him sometime after they'd started dating about how guilty she often felt for being so far from her parents. Since finding them and restoring their memories after the war, she'd felt compelled to do everything possible not to let them down again.

"Then again," her mother continued with a small smile, "I think you have more reason to stay in England now."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco's smug smirk and she elbowed him. She was fairly sure that beneath her mother's initial concerns, she found the elopement terribly romantic.

"If he continues to act right," she glared at him playfully.

"Nope," he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, "you said your vows. You're stuck with me now. If you run back to Paris, I'll just follow you."

"Have you decided where you'll be living," Mr. Granger asked in an attempt to steer the conversation back to less sentimental topics. "I know you found a flat near the Ministry for now but surely you don't intend for you both to make it your permanent home, Hermione."

"No," she ducked her head to focus more closely on her menu. "We just need to sort some things out still."

"You've still not told your mother then," Mr. Granger pinned Draco with a serious look.

"I was told I had to wait for permission," he snarked, glancing at Hermione.

"Oh look, our server is coming," Hermione noted in an effort to distract them.

Draco and her father shared a knowing look and for once Draco felt certain that even though the man didn't agree with how they got married, he was at least on his side. Once their server took their orders, Mr. Granger wasted no time in picking up right where they left off.

"Hermione, why haven't you let Draco tell his mother about you? Don't you think delaying the news will only make the pill more difficult to swallow?"

 _Pill more difficult to swallow_ , Draco mouthed to her in confusion.

"Muggle saying. I'll explain later," she responded automatically. "I know you're right, dad. I just…I know the fight we're likely up against and I suppose I wasn't willing to allow it to spoil the good start we've had otherwise." She glanced at Draco. "She's not going to accept me. You can tell yourself whatever lies you want but I know better, Draco. From everything you've said she's going to be livid. It doesn't matter what I do or how much I achieve, there's always someone waiting to tell me I don't belong."

Draco frowned at that familiar argument. One glance at her parents was enough to make him feel like a part of the problem, too. He obviously knew that the prejudiced views of some were never going to die but he no longer subscribed to such idiotic beliefs himself. He just wanted his wife to have a little more faith in him. He could make his mother see reason. He knew he could.

Draco's quietness throughout the rest of lunch wasn't lost on Hermione as she and her parents discussed everything from her new job to the impending holidays. Draco merely nodded when her mother invited them over to decorate the family Christmas tree, sans magic.

Her father tried his best to argue when Draco picked up the check but ultimately gave up. It was clear to Hermione that he was brooding about something.

She waved goodbye to her parents outside of the restaurant and took Draco's hand as they began walking in the opposite direction to the closest apparation point.

"Okay, are we going to talk about what's gotten your wand in a knot," she asked as they stopped at a crosswalk.

"No idea what you're on about," he muttered and pulled her along across the street.

"Oh please, Draco. Don't insult my intelligence. You've been near silent since my father brought up the subject of us telling your mother about our marriage."

Draco halted them in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling her aside to avoid the foot traffic. "I won't insult your intelligence if you don't insult my commitment to you."

Hermione deflated at the fiery look in his grey eyes. They'd gone the color of dark smoke and she knew the look well. The first time they'd ever fought after they started dating, he'd surprised her. She'd always imagined him to be the type to insist on his way and not compromise. However, Draco had been more concerned over her emotions than he had over being right.

"I know you're committed to me, Draco. We wouldn't be married if you weren't. I wouldn't have moved back to England if you weren't. I trust you."

"Then I need you to trust me when I tell you that I will _make_ her accept you. You're a non-negotiable factor in my life, Hermione. You're my wife and one day the mother of my children. The Malfoy line continues only with you," he told her seriously.

Hermione swallowed thickly at the serious look he was giving her. He had a way of looking at her as if she was the only thing he could see. She'd never had anyone look at her that way before she met Draco Malfoy again and it was startling to see it from him of all people. But she knew he was serious.

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm sorry, Draco."

Draco nodded and lifted her chin to kiss her softly. Hermione looped her arm through his as they continued their walk and leaned into him.

"Let's order in tonight. I want you to myself."

His responding grin could have lit all of London.

* * *

Draco brushed a light bit of debris from his coat, making a mental note to arrange for someone to clean Hermione's fireplace for her. He glanced about the formal sitting room that was decorated already for the holidays. No doubt his mother had given the task to the house elves to handle. Garland and ribbon decorated the windows while a glittering tree stood near the far window. He shook his head and made his way down the hall once he was certain he hadn't been seen.

He cursed under his breath when the floorboards groaned and creaked under his weight as he took the stairs to the second floor nearly two at a time. He drew his wand halfway and cast a silencing charm on them. Once on the second floor, he paused as he considered going straight to his rooms in the East wing. However, instead he ventured toward the west wing and the grand library to retrieve the book Hermione asked to borrow. Being his wife, she could have summoned it even from her flat in London but a random book traveling through the house and the floo would likely cause concern if his mother happened to see it.

Draco eased into the room through one of the double doors and pressed it closed with care. Only the faint glow of the moonlight and an everlasting candle lit the room. He knew just where the book was though and merely lit the tip of his wand to light the way.

His fingertips trailed along the spines of the books as he looked for the exact location. "Gotcha," he muttered when he finally put his fingers on it and pulled the book from the shelf.

"You're coming in late, aren't you, dear?"

Draco whirled around at the sound of his mother's voice and for a short moment had his wand out at the ready. He lowered it quickly once his brain caught up with his body and he sagged with relief.

"Mother, what are you doing in here? You haven't been into recreational reading in ages."

Narcissa lifted a prim brow as she drummed the fingers of both hands on the armrests of her chair. The room lit with more candles suddenly and she gave her son a slight smile.

Draco felt his stomach churn at the sight. Nothing good ever came from that smile.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Draco. I find plenty of things to read in my free time. The Daily Prophet for instance." Narcissa gestured with a manicured hand towards a copy of the next morning's paper resting on the lower coffee table in front of her. "You know your friend Pansy still works at the Prophet. Her mother caught wind of an article running in the morning edition that she thought I might find…particularly interesting. Care to comment, dear?"

Draco's brows knit together as he eyed his mother in concern. After a tense moment, he stepped forward and leaned down to have a look at the article in question. In large, bold letters the front page read:

 _War Heroine and Ex-Death Eater: Secret Marriage!_

Looping repeatedly was a picture of him and Hermione standing outside the London restaurant after lunch with her parents. They'd caught the moment that he tipped her chin up to him before leaning down and pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. A smaller picture under that managed to capture her engagement ring and wedding band.

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat as he straightened and met his mother's searching eyes. He'd never seriously considered anyone seeing them together in muggle London. He'd only been joking with Hermione when he'd made her swear to her promise if they were.

"Mother, I…"

"I'm not stupid, Draco. The last year you've spent more time traveling for work it seems than you did here at home. Do you think I didn't know that you didn't spend the last couple of nights at home? Not to worry because Pippin keeps your secrets but the Daily Prophet surely does not have the same allegiance. By morning, all of Wizarding Britain will know about your little romance."

Draco straightened his spine as he met his mother's challenging stare and his hand squeezed the poor book in his hands to the point that he felt the cover begin to give under the pressure.

"What do you plan to do about it, Mother? Yes, we're legally married. I won't deny it now that you know. And I absolutely will not divorce her so don't even ask me."

Narcissa tilted her head as she studied him. Gone was the boy who'd done all he could to please her and in front of her was the man he'd been trying to become since the war. Draco was now unrelenting and a far cry from the little boy who used to go to his father with his every little concern.

"I'd planned to discuss a marriage contract for you with the Greengrasses. Their youngest, Astoria, is still single and her mother wants her settled down."

Draco scoffed as his mind drudged up an image of the witch his mother was referring to. "I'm sure she does. Daphne is always lamenting that her younger sister is an entitled little bint."

"Draco," his mother admonished.

He rolled his eyes and didn't even try to hide it. "Please, you can't be serious. Regardless, that's no longer possible. I'm already married."

Narcissa sighed heavily as she rested her head on a fisted hand. "And just what was it about Miss Granger that bewitched you so? I won't deny what everyone says about her intellect but she's just so plain compared to the women you'd have to choose from otherwise."

"Plain," Draco scoffed as he recalled just how his wife had looked when he left her.

Snuggled amongst their sheets and blankets, her curls were wild and free as they splayed across the pillows. Her lips were swollen and red from his attention and her complexion rosy from their last round of lovemaking.

"There's utterly nothing plain about Hermione Granger," he insisted. "If you want to compare her to your overly done up pureblood socialites who don't know when to put down their makeup brushes or lay off the elixirs, then sure, I suppose she looks a bit plain. However, she doesn't need that rubbish to make her appealing to me. I like her best without her makeup. And her eyes…" Draco shook his head as he recalled molten chocolate color of them before they fluttered closed and sleep took her. "…I was blinded by idiocy to have not seen it in our last years at Hogwarts. She was an awkward child as we all were but by the end…even I can't deny it looking back."

"You're quite enamored with her then," she surmised.

He snorted at her assessment and nodded, "Yes, Mother. I'm in love with my wife."

Narcissa licked her lips and sat up straight again. "I don't like how you went about this, Draco. And here I find out all of this just before we host our annual Christmas ball where I'd intended to make introductions for you." She shook head in frustration, "I'm going to look like a perfect fool when Astoria's mother sees this article."

"Better than me trying to pretend I'm interested in the bint," he snarked.

His mother stood and approached him. She angled her head to look up at him and he realized suddenly that his wife was a few inches shorter and somehow even more intimidating than his own mother. If he could survive Hermione's wrath when he screwed up, he could survive his mother's now.

"Where is your wife now, Draco?"

"Asleep. In our bed at her flat."

"And how long did you intend to hide her from me? How long did you both intend to hide from the world?"

Draco's eyes darkened to the grey of storm clouds. "I didn't intend to hide her at all. She's the one who didn't want to tell you straight away for this very reaction I'm getting right now. She knew you wouldn't be immediately accepting of her. She knew what you had wanted for me."

Narcissa shook her head and maneuvered around him. She paused with her hand on the door and glanced over her shoulder. "You make me play the villain, Draco, when all I'm trying to do is guide you the best I know how."

"Perhaps it's time to let me forge my own path then."

She turned away without another word and his shoulders sagged once the door closed behind her. He slumped into the armchair she'd just vacated and he dragged a hand down his face. The flames of the various candles danced and flickered, casting shadows along the walls.

He absolutely hated admitting it but Hermione had been right.

He glanced at the copy of the paper still resting on the coffee table and couldn't help the slight smirk that drew up one corner of his mouth. At least would get to collect on her promise. That coat was terribly unfashionable with the rest of his clothes.


	6. Battle of Wills

**Thank you for your continued interest in the story, everyone. I love reading your reactions in the reviews. Are you ready for more Narcissa?**

* * *

 **Six**

Draco fought his way through the atrium of the Ministry, scowling openly whenever someone stopped to gawk at him or cluster in a group to whisper as he passed. He entered a lift alone and held on tight to the handle from the ceiling. The lift shot left and then right before settling at the requested floor.

He straightened the lapels of his suit as he exited and hurried down the hall. The sound of his polished oxfords echoed in the hall as they ate up the distance. He halted at the entrance of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He'd just have to get over the fact that his somewhat quiet existence was gone now. She was worth it or else he'd have never proposed. He knew what he was getting himself into when he did.

He stepped inside and approached the head secretary's desk. The witch clacked away at a decrepit muggle typewriter with one hand and swirled her wand through the air with the other while a series of papers filed and organized beside her. So absorbed in her task, she didn't notice him at first until he finally cleared his throat.

"Oh," she exclaimed and some of her papers shot straight into the air.

Draco caught them quickly before they could go anywhere and handed them back neatly.

"Sorry for the interruption. I'd like to speak with Hermione Granger."

Her dark brows lifted a fraction but she was clearly a professional at this. She merely jerked her chin in a nod and pointed to her left.

"Second door on the left, Mr. Malfoy. I believe she just returned from her orientation with the minister and head of the department."

Draco nodded, appreciating the fact that the witch wasn't trying to gather any deeper information beyond the article that morning. He turned to go in the direction she'd pointed but stopped when she cleared her own throat.

"Mr. Malfoy, word of advice…side step to the right in the hallway. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes thought they'd have a good laugh and decorated all of the offices with magicked mistletoe before work this morning. Your wife was nearly caught under it with Mr. Potter."

Draco snorted, "Your discretion is appreciated, Ms…?"

"Thomas," she smiled genially. "And we're all thrilled to have Ms. Granger here. She'll provide some much needed direction, we're sure."

Draco nodded and finally left her desk. He did just as she'd said and stepped to the right but then he also had to dodge singing Christmas ribbons when he brushed too close to the stone walls. What in Merlin's name would they come up with next?

When he reached her office, he saw that her nameplate had already been added. Welcome cards had been stuck to the door with sticking charms, some simple and some more elaborate and ridiculous than the rest. One welcome card was even shooting sparks from an exclamation point.

He lifted his hand and knocked, waiting patiently for her to answer. When she did, he glanced around him before he slipped inside. Draco closed the door securely and turned to face his wife.

At first, Hermione didn't look up from her parchment and her muggle pen was scrawling across the page with great speed. He smirked and watched her for a moment, appreciating her peculiarities. She no longer used a quill and ink if she didn't have to, favoring her muggle writing utensils for their ease and lack of mess.

She'd dressed in his favorite no-nonsense white oxford blouse and he imagined her favorite black pencil skirt. Her curls had been tamed some and clipped back from her face.

Draco finally cleared his throat and waited for her reaction.

Hermione flinched and glanced up, clearly forgetting that she'd even bid someone to enter. She dropped her pen with haste and stood to round her desk.

"Oh, thank God," she muttered as she pressed her face into his chest.

She didn't show her vulnerabilities much and Draco had learned to appreciate it when she did. She _needed_ him much the way that he needed her and the first time he realized it, it had sent his heart into palpitations.

"Rough morning," he asked as he ran a hand down her spine soothingly.

Hermione lifted her head from his chest and leaned up on her toes to kiss him gently before she retook her seat.

"Merlin, yes. Forget the fact that this is my first official day on the job and I have to make a good impression. That stupid article is published and our entire control over the situation just slipped away."

"My mother knows," he told her with a slight wince.

Her eyes widened at this news and she slumped back in her chair. "She saw the paper this morning, too, then?"

"Last night actually." He dropped the book she'd wanted from his family library on her desk and leaned the edge. "Pansy still works for the Prophet and the little gossip let it slip to her mother about the article running. Her mother, of course, had to tell mine and we had a lovely confrontation in the library last night."

"Oh Merlin, I wasn't quite ready to face Narcissa Malfoy," she moaned miserably.

"A little late for that now, love," he smirked. "I thought she was going to accost me at the breakfast table this morning but fortunately, she didn't. However, I've accepted a dinner invitation on your behalf."

Hermione's eyes widened comically and he fought the urge to laugh. She'd likely hex him silly if he did.

"When," she asked hesitantly.

"Tonight."

"Draco!"

He held up both hands in a placating gesture and lost his battle with laughter. "What? She knows now. That was half the battle. Best to get it over with and win the war, yeah?"

Hermione's mouth puckered as if she'd tasted something bitter and he withheld the temptation to tease her for it. Instead, he leaned over her desk and kissed her again, coaxing the sour expression away.

"I need a time turner so I can go back and warn myself not to marry a Slytherin," she mumbled to herself.

He didn't take offense to that comment and, to her further irritation, looked amused.

"Hmm, and me not have my Gryffindor wife? I think not," he smirked at her. "Don't think on it too hard, Hermione. I'll be back when you get off to pick you up."

He stood and vacated her office without allowing her any chance to argue. Hermione scowled at her door when it clicked closed behind him and nearly threw her quill at the door. She jumped suddenly when her parchment shivered. She glanced down at an unfamiliar red speck on her desk to watch as it grew into a lovely red rose.

"Bloody smooth git," she muttered to herself as she lifted the flower to her nose. It was cliché but she loved red roses. Tulips were her second favorite but he'd asked to, in his words, court her officially last Christmas with a bouquet of simple red roses. That gesture and the fact that he allowed her to witness his sincerity and vulnerability in that moment had solidified roses in the top position.

She dodged curious co-workers for the rest of the day and was the last one in the office when the secretary poked her head inside her office.

"Oh, Melinda, I'm sorry. I hope you weren't waiting for me to leave," Hermione told her as she began shuffling some papers. Draco was likely going to be there at any second to take her to see his mother. The mere idea of it sent a curl of dread through her stomach.

The dark-haired woman offered her a friendly smile as she adjusted the strap of her bag. "Not at all. I had taken last Friday off so I was a bit behind on my filing. I can wait if you need me to though."

"Not at all," Hermione shook her head. "My husband should be here any minute actually. I'm to have dinner with him and his mother," she frowned.

Melinda leaned back to have a peek down the hall. "I'd say you're spot on. That's him now."

Hermione stood quickly after she'd neatened her desk and grabbed her own bag and coat. She slid a file under her arm and was out the door before Draco had the chance to meet her.

"Let's get it over with then," she called as she met him halfway.

"Good luck," Melinda whispered as she passed the couple.

Draco looped Hermione's arm through his as they took their time walking the hallway and glanced down at her. "Does everyone know you're dreading this?"

"No," she laughed. "But she's quite intuitive. And I have the distinct feeling she'll be a good secret keeper. Had news not hit the Prophet first and you'd just dropped by, I don't think she'd have said a word."

He nodded as they waited for a free lift and glanced at her again from the corner of his eyes. "You're not nervous, are you?"

"Nervous," she repeated his question with a scoff. "I'd sooner splinch myself than have dinner with your mother given the choice."

Draco frowned at her quip and pulled her inside the lift with him. He didn't say a word as it zipped right and left before opening again to a deserted atrium.

"We're taking the floo," she asked when he stopped in front of one of the fireplaces.

Draco dropped her arm and turned to face her. He stared silently for a moment, memorizing the color of her eyes, the shape of her mouth, and the tilt of her chin as she looked up at him. He lifted his hands carefully and framed her face before he leaned down and engaged her in a gentle kiss.

Hermione was caught off guard by his sudden seriousness but only took a moment before she settled under his touch. Her hands came up to wrap around his wrists as she pushed closer to him. She heard herself whimper quietly when he deepened the kiss. It had bothered her at first when they started dating, just how easily he could elicit such a response from her. However, one thing was for certain about Draco Malfoy—he was sincere in his affection and he didn't give it freely without being intensely invested in the other person.

Draco rested his forehead against hers as he pulled back and sighed when her hands drifted to rest against his heaving chest.

"Every day for nearly the last year, I've feared that you would wise up and leave me. You can do better than me, Hermione Granger. You could have had a man whose family you didn't need to fight for acceptance. Why?"

Hermione pushed at his chest to see him and hated the look on his face. "You're a broody little cockroach, did you know?"

He snorted suddenly at her quip and she smiled up at him. She liked to call him that on occasion just to remind him of the little brat he'd been. He wasn't bothered by it really. They had an odd sort of relationship anyway, what with their near constant banter.

"You wanted me, Draco. Not the version that people like to gossip about in the papers. Not for my reputation or my hero status. You wanted _me_. Because you like talking to me. You like needling me," she teased. "And I wanted you for much of the same. Remove the negativity of the past and you were quite easy to fall for, Draco. We'll get past this with your mother and if she doesn't accept me then that's just her problem. I'm not giving you back so she can just kiss a blast-ended skrewt."

He said not a word but leaned down and kissed her firmly. His hand was protective laced through hers as they stepped into the floo together and he called out the name of his family home.

They emerged from the main sitting room and Hermione took a deep breath to gather her strength. She'd not stepped foot in Malfoy Manor since that horrible night during the war. The subject of that night had come up just a month into her dating Draco. The dinner they had been attempting to eat was quickly forgotten as she spent nearly an hour reassuring him that she forgave him for not doing anything and reminding him that he'd have been killed if he had tried. He spent the next day spoiling her rather unnecessarily with book shopping and a decadent lunch.

There was one thing that both stunned and impressed Hermione and it was Draco's immense appreciation for forgiveness. They fought or he said something stupid and he always seemed rather shocked that she forgave him in the end.

Hermione was thankful that Draco gave her a moment to get her bearings once they emerged from the floo. She glanced about the room and took in the elaborate holiday décor. Holly dotted the entranceway. A huge tree stood near the main window glittering with an assortment of magicked lights and ornaments that were likely older than Hermione and Draco put together.

Draco snorted at her side as he, too, had been looking about the room. Hermione glanced up at him in question, his hand still held tightly in hers.

"She's showing off," he answered her unspoken question. "She likely spent all day directing the elves in decorating. I've not seen her go all out like this in a few years now. I imagine each room has something."

"A Christmas tree in each room," she asked incredulously.

Draco lifted a pale brow in question. "Probably. Each room is likely a bit overkill but is it odd to have more than one in a home?"

Hermione tried to keep her surprise from showing but felt she was likely failing. "While I've heard of some people having maybe two, one for each room is…rather excessive."

He shrugged and began leading them from the room. "I hadn't realized. That's how it usually was here growing up. Though the additional décor," he glared up at the ceiling in the main hall that was sporting some rather elaborate twinkling lights, "wasn't generally so abundant."

"Draco," Hermione swallowed as she crept closer to him, "we're not…well we won't be going near it, will we?"

His eyes softened when he caught her chewing the corner of her lower lip nervously. He paused in his steps and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. She so rarely showed him her weaknesses.

"No, it's in the other wing far from here. I wouldn't knowingly lead you near it without telling you."

"Okay," she nodded in easy acceptance. Her episodes of nightmares were rare these days but she'd been upfront with him from the beginning about them. She didn't want to accidentally trigger them.

Hermione surveyed the halls of Malfoy Manor as she followed Draco's lead. He hadn't been wrong at all. Windows were framed with garland and candles floated in arches of the ceiling. The woman favored silver and gold, and it killed Hermione to admit it but it was all actually rather lovely even in its excess.

There was no sound in the manor minus the sounds of their footsteps on the expensive floors, her heels cutting a louder echo than his rich oxfords. She nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly, her focus having been on one of the scowling portraits on the far wall they'd just passed. She looked up and drew a sharp breath as she realized his mother stood in front of them placidly.

Narcissa Malfoy stood with her slender hands clasped neatly in front of her person. Her robes were too extravagant for a simple dinner but the message was clear. Narcissa was flaunting their wealth and Hermione surmised that it had to be in an effort to make her realize that she wouldn't fit in with their family.

"Mother," Draco drawled in greeting. He tilted his chin towards his wife in a bob of his head. "I don't believe you've ever formally met Hermione."

The blonde witch pursed her lips at the subtle reminder of the last time Hermione had been in this very home. She'd spent the evening writhing on the ballroom floor. Formal introductions surely hadn't been involved.

"A pleasure, Miss Granger," Narcissa tilted her head forward in the slightest nod of acknowledgement.

Hermione swallowed the bitter taste on her tongue and forced a small smile for Draco's sake. "Thank you for having us this evening."

The older witch turned, her robes fluttering out behind her as she stalked to the end of the ostentatiously long table. "No trouble. Especially since my son was technically still living here until recently."

Draco watched from his peripheral vision as Hermione bit down on both her lips in an effort not to use her sharp tongue. Instead, she pasted another simple smile on her face that looked nothing like his wife. His scowled at the expression and escorted her to their seats.

"I might remind you, Mother, that the manor and all Malfoy properties are under my direction." He seated Hermione next to him and gave his mother a shark-like smirk as she took her own seat across from them. "I can come and go as I please."

"Of course, dear," she responded. She snapped her fingers and two house elves appeared with the first course of soup.

Hermione swallowed when faced with the two elves. One filled their glasses carefully while the other balanced bowls of soup in front of them.

"Pippin," Draco called softly. "I left a package in my rooms earlier. I'd like for you and Scroggs to see to it when you have time, please."

The elf's ears flapped and she offered him a polite smile and bowed formally. Draco winked discreetly at Hermione causing her to make a mental note to ask about that later.

"Well, it's been quite a while since you've lived in England, Miss Granger," Narcissa interrupted their silent communication. "I've only just recently learned about your relationship with my son as you know. You'll have to regale me with how you became so well acquainted."

Hermione watched closely as his mother eyed her intently while she brought a spoonful of soup to her lips. She wondered in that moment whether Narcissa didn't like her because she was muggleborn or because she wasn't who she would have picked for Draco, regardless of blood.

"Draco ran into me in Paris while on business a year ago. I would say our relationship evolved naturally, if not quickly."

She didn't particularly feel inclined to regale his mother with the same lengthy story she told her friends. Draco could fill her in if that was what she wanted.

"Hmm, I'm sure it was quite lovely but I wouldn't know. Draco didn't feel the need to tell me he was in a relationship. I found out from the Prophet, you see." Narcissa sipped her soup and stared pointedly at her new daughter-in-law.

"Mother, that's enough," Draco warned softly.

"What, dear? I'm just making conversation. We have so much to catch up on now that your wife is in the country. When can I expect you to move her into your wing of the manor?"

Draco swallowed and pushed his half-eaten bowl of soup away as he focused his attention on his mother. He could feel Hermione's eyes on him and no matter what he knew someone wasn't going to be happy with the living arrangements.

"We've not settled our final housing arrangement," Draco informed her, injecting as much of a casual tone into his voice as he could.

"Settled," Narcissa questioned, her mask of calmness beginning to slip. "What's to settle? Honestly, Draco. You skipped all tradition and completely went over my head and now you're delaying moving your wife into your home? Hasn't there been enough delay as it is? I haven't had the normal chance to groom her to take over the manor's duties. And there are the children to consider as well."

Hermione choked on a sip of her water and carefully set her glass down before she glanced between them. "I'm sorry. You said children?" She looked at Draco and lifted her brows in question. "What have you told your mother? I'm not pregnant, Draco," she hissed.

"I never said you were," he muttered in defense.

"Has Draco not informed you of how a traditional courtship would have occurred?" She clucked her tongue in disapproval as she shook her head at Hermione's blank expression. "Children are an obvious requirement in the marriage. Draco is the sole heir to continue the Malfoy line and I'd say he's done much to improve the family image."

"I won't deny the good work that Draco has done," Hermione spoke slowly, feeling much like she was stepping around land mines with the direction of this conversation. "However, we've only been together for a year and married for just six months. I hardly think there's a rush for children."

Narcissa scoffed at her, "I was pregnant with Draco within the first six months of my marriage."

"Mother," Draco warned again, "there's absolutely no rush for Hermione to get pregnant. And on top of that, I'm not concerned about her running a household. She has her own career to worry about."

Narcissa and Draco stared at one another for what Hermione felt was an awkward amount of time. Without warning, Narcissa snapped her fingers and the two elves appeared again with the main course of roasted chicken.

Hermione stalled in beginning to eat, too rattled by the direction of this dinner so far. Already his mother tried to assert dominance over her career choices and the speed at which they started a family. Hermione felt like she was getting whiplash from how fast they were ping-ponging back and forth.

"Well," Narcissa began again as she cut into her chicken, "how have your parents handled the news of your marriage, Miss Granger?"

Hermione tried to gauge Draco's mood before she answered but he wouldn't meet her eyes. With a sigh, she set her utensils down before she addressed the witch. She had the distinct feeling that this was going to get ugly between them if she didn't make an effort at peace.

"Please just call me Hermione. And they've been quite supportive. Admittedly, my father is still learning to trust Draco which is understandable given our past growing up but my mother loves him already."

"I suppose being muggles they don't see the papers as they've reported on the good Draco has done," Narcissa sniffed.

"Actually," Hermione forced a smile, "they do. After I restored their memories following the war, I subscribed them again under my name. It helped to ease their nerves knowing that things were improving."

Draco chewed his chicken carefully as he watched his mother's expression. She wasn't known for being overly expressive and, oddly, he felt she'd gone further into her shell in an effort of self-preservation against those still not fond of their family.

Narcissa set her own fork down and carefully wiped her mouth. "You removed your parents' memories?"

Slightly confused about her reaction, Hermione held the woman's curious stare and nodded. "Yes, and sent them to Australia where I hoped no one would find them. It was the best I could think of at the time. As you said, they're muggles and I was basically wanted by the Ministry."

"I had no idea," she whispered, an odd look akin to shame washing over her face.

Hermione glanced at Draco in question and he could only shrug.

"I was successful in keeping just a few details of my private life from the Prophet after the war. Thankfully, my parents were spared any further scrutiny beyond the public knowing they survived."

Narcissa rested her hands on either side of her plate as her eyes fell to her half-eaten meal. Thoughts of her son during the final battle plagued her as she processed this new information.

"I won't deny my beliefs at the time regarding people like you, Miss — _Hermione_ , but not once did I ever think it was right to engage in such barbaric violence. I'm sorry to hear what you had to do. I can also assure you I don't take issue with you because of your blood status."

Hermione sat utterly stunned by his mother's apology. She didn't know how long she sat there in silence until she felt Draco touch her hand. She turned to look at him and he lifted an eyebrow in question. She swallowed and turned back to address his mother.

"My apologies as well, Mrs. Malfoy because I thought for certain that my blood status would be exactly the issue you would have with me."

Narcissa pinned her with a serious stare. "Don't misunderstand me, Hermione. I most definitely did intend to match my son with a pureblood witch. However, that has more to do with tradition and I suppose perhaps old habits dying hard. Perhaps, I'm not as open-minded as I would have liked to believe before tonight."

Draco sat in mild shock himself to see this side of his mother. He reached for Hermione's closest hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before he addressed her.

"Mother, does this mean that you'll no longer take issue with our marriage? And allow us to settle into England in our own way and in our own time?"

Narcissa opened her mouth to reply but closed it again and pursed her lips. Clearly, such a prospect wasn't what she had in mind but it appeared that she was going to choose her battles.

"What we have to deal with now is a formal public announcement."

Hermione's brow furrowed and she glanced at Draco. "Formal announcement?"

"Of course," his mother answered as he opened his mouth. "We can't allow that tripe article in the Prophet to speak for the family. It's highly unusual and the writing was fantastical at best. I'll write to Jules, my contact there, and have a proper announcement of your marriage drawn up. And then we'll use the Christmas ball as a formal public outing for you both."

Draco didn't bother to look at his wife to gauge her reaction. He could feel the heat rolling off of her in waves.

Happy holidays, indeed.


	7. Hermione's Bad Day

**Thank you again for your lovely reviews. I truly enjoy reading your thoughts. I know you have tons of choices of stories to read so I'm always thankful when someone chooses to read mine. Now, it's nearly midnight here for me (CST) so here's the next chapter before Christmas Eve. The next won't be up until Christmas day. Please read and review! :)**

* * *

 **Seven**

"You can sleep on the sofa tonight," Hermione announced as they emerged from the floo in her flat.

Draco groaned loudly, not bothering to hide it. "Love, it's not like I could talk her out of it. I think she made significant progress regarding our marriage for one evening. Can't we just let her have this one?"

"You can do whatever you like," Hermione told him flippantly as she stepped out of her heels and bent to pick them up on her way to the bedroom. "However, I'm not to be used as some showpiece for your mother to flaunt amongst all of wizarding society as an appeasement for her not getting to approve of me or our marriage."

"Hermione," he pleaded as he followed a few paces behind.

The bedroom door shut abruptly in his face and he heard the lock click into place before he felt her wards being cast.

"Sofa, Draco."

He growled to himself, silently cursing her willful personality. There was no point in trying to break through her wards. He'd tried that once before and just ended up making a fool of himself.

It was late and with nothing else to do, Draco stripped to his underwear before he stretched out on the sofa. He could have spited her and transfigured it into a small bed but felt he'd enjoy it better when he could complain of a stiff neck once she was feeling regretful for punishing him so. And she usually did.

He stole the small throw blanket she kept on the back of it and stretched it across him. It barely reached his chest and he hoped he got a cold as well. That would show her.

Draco drifted to sleep sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He tossed and turned for a while before finally passing out. When he woke the next morning, he was rather confused. He felt the heavy warmth of another body at his side and her head on his chest. Her curls were tickling his chin as her head rose and fell with each breath he took.

"Decide to forgive me in the middle of the night," he asked in his raspy morning voice. He did indeed have a stiff neck but wasn't inclined to ruin his current situation by telling her so.

When his hand caressed the length of her he could reach, he surmised that she'd worn only his stolen jumper and her underwear to bed.

"Shut up," Hermione muttered against his chest.

Draco smirked as he ran his fingers through her wild hair. "Admit it or not, we both know it wasn't my fault."

She propped herself up on his chest and blinked at him sleepily. "I'll admit nothing," she muttered before she climbed over him and stood.

Draco watched in mild amusement as she stretched her arms over her head, her back popping in the process. He appreciated the sight of her legs and the peek of her stomach he was treated to in the process.

Hermione dropped her arms, oblivious to his interest, when she heard the pecking of a bird at her window. She hurried over to the waiting owl and took the rolled up paper from its beak. She glanced at the clock on her mantle as she unfolded it, noting that it was blessedly early still and she didn't have to rush in her efforts to make it to work on time.

"Bloody hell," she breathed when she caught sight of the front page.

Draco kicked off the blanket, stretching his own back as he made his way to her. He glanced over her shoulder to read.

"Shit," he hissed.

Any hopes Hermione still had about a quiet return to the Ministry were completely dashed after she'd read the article in the Daily Prophet. She'd pushed Draco back through her floo with distinct instructions to handle his mother or she would.

Despite her irritation and nerves, Hermione managed to hold her head high as she entered the atrium. She ignored pointed stares and whispers as she entered a lift, managing a glare for one group of gossiping women who were being less than discreet in their whispering.

"Morning, Hermione," Melinda smiled apologetically when she made it to the safety of her office.

Hermione sighed heavily and stopped at Melinda's desk to compose herself. Her shoulders sagged and she felt like she'd not slept at all. Truth be told, she hadn't. Not until she gave up on Draco's exile and joined him on the sofa did she get any sleep. Knowing he was so close now and that she no longer had to spend nights alone made her feel foolish for punishing him for his mother's overbearing nature, even if she refused to admit his innocence to his face.

"Melinda, do me a favor, would you?"

"Scan all of your owls and turn all visitors away," the witch guessed with a grin.

She gave her an appreciative smile and nodded. "Thank you."

Melinda nodded and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "I should warn you. I wasn't able to stop the two of them from waiting in your office. I figured you wouldn't mind though."

Hermione snorted and made her way towards her office. When she entered, she found Harry and Ron each perched on one of the chairs opposite her desk. Harry was twirling his wand anxiously while Ron appeared to be finishing an egg sandwich, not minding where he dropped his crumbs.

"Must you make a mess of my office, Ronald," she chastised. She dropped her bag and took her seat with a sigh.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled and shoved the rest of it into his mouth. He vanished the crumbs with a wave of his wand.

Harry stowed his wand in his auror robes and gave her a lopsided smile. "We figured you'd need support this morning after we saw the article."

"And we want to hear how dinner with his mum went," Ron added. "Ow, Harry!" He rubbed his arm where Harry had elbowed him sharply.

Hermione rolled her eyes at them and did her best to relax a bit in her chair. The truth was that she felt like her whole body was pulled taut like a rubber band waiting to snap.

"What's there to tell that you likely can't guess? She was pompous and resistant at first and then she oddly apologized after she learned about what I had to do with my parents during the war." She frowned as she recalled the moment when his mother had softened. "It's not my blood she was taking issue with anymore but _me_. She didn't have the normal opportunity to _groom_ me," she made air quotes with her hands. "And Draco had to fight off her insistence that I engage in some of the more archaic female pursuits regarding running a household."

Harry gave her a stunned look and glanced at Ron. "Well, that at least explains why she ran a full page article on the front page stating her public acceptance of your marriage to Malfoy and flaunting your official introduction as a couple at their annual Christmas ball."

"Sounds bloody horrible if you ask me," Ron mumbled. "Plus, there's the fact that it's Malfoy to consider."

Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval but chose not to berate him this time. She was just irritated enough with the Malfoy family to let it slide.

"Of course, I expect there's no getting out of this," she sighed dejectedly.

Harry gave her a sympathetic smile and nudged Ron to do the same. "Well, perhaps if you indulge her this once then that will be the end of it and you can get on with your lives."

Hermione snorted at him as she began spreading out her parchment. "I highly doubt that she'll be satisfied with just the one obnoxious showing. I'm honestly afraid that if we indulge her once then she'll only press us for more."

"The next thing you know she'll be advertising your heir," Ron snickered.

"What is it with the magical community and my bloody fertility," she hissed.

Harry and Ron both flinched at her tone and shared a confused look.

"Probably best not to ask," Harry advised in a whisper.

The rest of her day didn't get any better. While Melinda was able to fend off any curious gossips who wandered by, it didn't stop anyone from confronting her in the canteen when she met Harry and Ron for lunch.

"The audacity of some people," she muttered over lunch after no less than three women and two men asked her if she could get them an invitation to the Malfoy's annual Christmas ball.

"We're going again this year," Ron asked Harry.

"You can bet your broomsticks you are," Hermione answered for him. She pointed her fork at them individually. "I'll not be made to suffer through this with only Draco as support."

"At least the food was good," Ron shrugged in answer.

And she oddly hadn't heard a word from her husband all day. The realization irked her some when she left her office well after five. It was his family which was the center of all of her current grief after all. The least the man could do was grovel a bit.

Hermione took the long way home, choosing to walk from the Ministry instead of taking the floos. Bundled up in her coat and scarf, she had to smile as she walked through the heavily decorated neighborhood. Lights adorned houses and Christmas trees could be seen through windows. Snowflakes swirled in the air and she wished that Draco was by her side to enjoy it.

He could be terribly romantic when he tried. It had shocked her when they'd first started dating. He brought little trinkets to Paris each time he returned. Nothing of great cost, as it seemed he knew she didn't care about his wealth. His gifts were usually more thoughtful. Old books, origami cats charmed to touch noses as they sat on her book shelf, or flowers spelled to duplicate when they began to wilt—it had been his thoughtfulness that had made her first start to fall in love with him.

She smiled at the doorman of her building as he held the heavy door open for her. The lift was empty when she entered. She began to unloop her scarf as she watched the floors pass.

Hermione glanced around her as she approached her door and discreetly dropped the wards on her door before using her key to get inside. The flat was silent when she entered and she sighed heavily. This had been exactly why she'd decided to leave Paris. She'd been so sick of being alone and without her husband.

She dropped her bag and coat on her sofa before she rounded the corner and stopped cold. Draco sat at her small dining table with his arms crossed and an all too familiar smirk curling the edges of his mouth. He'd lost his jacket and waistcoat, and sat in his slacks and oxford shirt.

After Hermione managed to drag her eyes from him, she finally registered the warm light in the room from all of the candles along the table and shelves. The smell of her favorite dish from home finally made it to her nose and she took a great gulp of air, releasing a satisfied sigh.

Draco stood from the table finally and came to stand in front of her. She craned her neck to look up at him, completely taken with his gentle touch when he engaged her in a soft kiss.

"Consider this my apology for my mother's overbearing behavior," Draco whispered against her lips. "Also my plea to please indulge her for just the ball and then I'll be able to negotiate with her." The tone of his voice changed and she could hear the teasing within it, "She's accepted you though. Just like I told you she would."

Hermione snorted and pushed as his chest to gain some space. She couldn't think straight when he invaded her space like that. She didn't have the heart to tell him that his mother likely only accepted her because he wasn't giving her a choice.

She allowed him to lead her by the hand to the table and sat when he pulled her chair out. "It smells just like my mother's shepherd's pie," she sighed.

Draco smirked as he served her first and then himself. "That's because it is. Her chocolate cake, too."

Her eyes grew wide at that announcement. "Draco!"

He waved her off before pushed her fork towards her expectantly. "Oh, she was happy to do it when I showed up in their kitchen begging. She advised me that your father's roast is your second favorite for future reference but I think I'll have more trouble gaining his help should I ever need it."

Hermione rolled her eyes but felt irritation slipping when she tasted her first bite. "Fine," she muttered after a sip of wine. "But at least tell me you helped her and didn't just sit there and watch while she worked."

"Of course, I did," he retorted indignantly. "I'm not a lazy bum like Weasley. I'll have you know I iced that cake myself."

"Without magic," she drawled in challenge.

"Yes," he glared at her and took an angry bite of his meal. He chewed patiently and watched her as she settled into her own food. "So…am I forgiven?"

Hermione sighed and set her fork down carefully. "I'm sorry for blaming you, Draco. I know you can't control your mother."

Draco reached across the small table and held his hand out, palm up. He waited until she finally placed hers on top and he wrapped his fingers around it. He gave her a gentle squeeze as he brushed his thumb along her rings.

"Hermione, you know you come first now. I'm sorry we didn't get to go public with our relationship in our own way. I just think if we indulge her with this one thing then everything will be a lot smoother going forward."

She studied his hopeful expression and felt herself melting much as she had during their very first dinner. "Fine but only as long as she doesn't put a timer on my bloody uterus. I want children with you, Draco, but not tomorrow."

He snorted and nodded before he released her hand. Only half finished with her dinner, he watched in mild amusement as her eyes continued to track to the cake. He pulled his wand from his pocket and gave it a swift flick. A thin slice lifted from the confection and landed on a dessert plate next to her.

"Will chocolate cake earn me sex with my wife," he teased with a hopeful grin. "Just practice," he added when she glared at him. "I'm not trying to get you pregnant tonight."

"Merlin, you're a git," she grumbled before she took a large bite of cake.

Her moan caused Draco a bit of discomfort but she didn't torture him long. He was surprised to learn how much she loved sweets after they'd met again. It was always the best way to butter her up if he wanted a bit more of her affection.

Once she finished the slice, Hermione wasted no time in standing from the table. Draco was certain she was going to pass him up and his shoulders hunched in mild disappointment. However, he felt her hand grip the back of his collar and jerk him from his chair.

He grinned to himself as he stumbled behind her.


	8. Draco's Good Day

**Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating! Sorry that it's a bit late in the day (depending on where you are) but I changed my mind and ended up combining some scenes. This chapter is extra long which seemed fitting for the holiday. Enjoy and I hope you'll leave a review if you're feeling up to it. :)**

* * *

 **Eight**

Hermione scowled at the stack of letters and packages on her desk. They'd not been there when she'd left for lunch with Harry and Ron, and she had a distinct idea that she knew who they were all from.

The morning's Daily Prophet sat discarded at the corner of her desk, mocking her with the article that speculated about Draco's intentions towards her. People were talking and she'd expected it but the obvious interest didn't appear to be dying down.

She slumped into her chair and reached for the first letter. His mother's elegant script graced the envelope and she fought the urge to set it on fire.

 _Hermione,_

 _I do hope you'll consider wearing one of the dresses I've sent for your perusal. I've also requested a selection of the family jewels from Gringott's that I intend for you to wear. We'll have to contact my stylist from Paris for your hair, of course. If you wear it as you did recently at dinner then that just won't do._

 _Warm regards,_

 _Narcissa_

She tossed the letter off her desk with a growl. Her eyes widened in disbelief when the blasted thing floated back to her desk and folded itself neatly.

The woman had charmed the bloody thing as if she knew it would piss her off!

"So much for being accepting," she grumbled to herself. She loved Draco dearly but he was far too idealistic about his mother.

She waved her wand and sent the packages into her bag to deal with later. The nerve of the woman sending such trivial items to her at work of all places! It was bad enough having to dodge magicked mistletoe and giggling co-workers everywhere. She didn't need outside distractions regarding the bloody ball no one would quit talking about.

"You look like you're about to set something on fire."

Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of Ginny's voice. She breathed a sigh of relief when the witch appeared to be alone as she slipped inside her office and shut the door.

"Harry says Draco's mum has been badgering you all week," Ginny offered her a small smile as she hovered behind one of the guest chairs across from her desk.

"Merlin, Ginny, the woman is a menace. She's sending me bloody decorum lessons via owl and I came back from lunch to find packages on my desk. She's chosen dresses for me to try on for the ball and bloody jewels from the Malfoy vaults."

Ginny had the grace to cringe. "All in the name of her Christmas ball, yeah?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded. "We may have had a slight moment of humility with her over dinner but I still would never be her first choice for Draco and she's made that perfectly clear."

"Do you really care what she thinks?"

"Merlin, no," she scoffed. "If it weren't for Draco, I wouldn't even be tolerating the stupid interruptions to my work day. I thought she'd have taken the hint when I sent back short, curt replies but she doesn't seem to understand or possibly she doesn't care."

"Hmm," the redheaded witch hummed, "Well, I'm here to ask you to slack off for the rest of the day and go shopping with me. I still need to find a gift for Ron and George, and I need a dress for the ball as well. We can find something _you_ want and to hell with Narcissa Malfoy's expectations."

Hermione chewed her lower lip as she considered it. It was Friday already and she'd put in extra time the last two days, staying late in spite of Draco's protests. If she took a half day, she could find her own dress as Ginny suggested and make it home to her husband at a reasonable hour.

She flicked her wand at her bag to pack it with any remaining work for the weekend and stood. "Fine. I want to find something entirely muggle that will make her eye twitch in irritation."

"That's the spirit," Ginny grinned.

* * *

"I'm scared to death, Blaise."

Draco paced the small length of Hermione's living room as his best friend sat lounging on the sofa. Blaise watched in mild amusement as the blonde's agitation seemed to grow by the second, his hands twitching as he clasped them behind his back.

"Scared? What's there to be scared of," Blaise asked. He glanced about what he could see of the small flat and stood to inspect the photographs lining the mantle. "She's not going to leave you, if that's what you're worried about."

Draco huffed and moved to lean against the large window's ledge. It was getting late in the afternoon and muggles were hurrying down the streets, many carrying large packages as they finished their last minute Christmas shopping. It was rather charming.

"Of course that's what I'm bloody worried about," Draco spat as he turned back to his friend.

"Merlin," Blaise muttered. He glanced over his shoulder as he pointed at one of the photos. "I don't know why you should be if that's how she kisses you."

The blonde rolled his eyes as he stomped over to see what photo it was and couldn't stop his smug grin. They'd asked the wizard who'd married them in Paris to take a picture to commemorate the moment. Draco would have been lying if he said his wife wasn't the best kisser he'd ever experienced. Quite a shock for someone he'd always written off as nothing but a swot. However, Hermione always poured all of her emotion into the way she kissed him. It was consistent with her personality though; she didn't do anything by half.

"She's perfect," he muttered, half to himself.

Blaise smirked at the far off look on his friend's face and straightened to face him. "You're done for, you know it? It's rather poetic really that you two ended up together."

Draco sighed and slumped over to the armchair adjacent to the sofa. "My mother has been driving her spare, Blaise."

"Where's Granger now?"

"Out with Potter's wife. She owled me at work to let me know she was taking the afternoon off. The fact that she took a half day is indication enough that her nerves are wearing thin."

Blaise rubbed his chin in thought for a moment. If Hermione were anything like his own wife, he knew she'd be easily calmed with something flashy but he imagined that wasn't her style. He snapped his fingers suddenly.

"I've got it!"

Draco lifted a curious brow. "I'm listening."

Blaise grinned wide and Draco wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know what his best friend was about to suggest but if it helped calm his wife in any way, he'd consider it.

"I'll need to see your latest inventory report. And your book on the Malfoy accounts and properties."

Hermione got home at half past five, stumbling under the weight of a garment bag and a couple of parcels. Draco rushed to the door to relieve her of the weight, clucking his tongue all the while.

"My biggest surprise with you, Hermione, is that outside of work you sometimes seem to forget you're a witch. Why didn't you miniaturize these bloody things into that illegal bag of yours?"

Hermione huffed at him but wasn't truly that put out by his criticism. She followed him to their bedroom where they deposited her purchases.

"First of all, my bag isn't illegal."

Draco snorted as he hung the garment bag, preparing to undo the zip to have a look. He pulled his hand back when she swatted at him.

"Don't you dare," she wagged a stern finger at him. "That's for your mother's blasted ball. You can be the one to send her infernal packages back. I didn't bother trying on anything she picked out for me."

He nodded and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, drawing her by the hand to sit across his lap. She complied though her brow still had that annoyed wrinkle to it.

"You look lovely in anything but I won't deny that I prefer you in muggle clothes and not the sort of dramatic or stuffy robes my mother would deem appropriate."

Hermione frowned as she played with the collar of his shirt, his tie already gone or else she'd have busied herself with loosening it as a distraction.

"She's going to try to use the fact that I wouldn't wear the robes as justification of her disapproval of me. I'm well aware."

"Hermione, I care very little what she thinks of your attire. I want you to be comfortable and just be yourself."

Hermione bit her lower lip as her fingers continued to play with his collar. She saw the concern in his eyes as she simply stared back. A lone brow rose on his forehead when he felt her fingers moving down the front of his shirt, slowly releasing one button before descending to the next.

Draco looked from her fingers and to her eyes again. "What are you doing? Are we okay?"

She bit her lip against her facial muscles trying to pull into a smirk and nodded. "Draco, if I'm making an attempt at undressing you, I'd say you and I are fine."

He opened his mouth to respond but she wasn't in the mood to hear it. He didn't attempt any further protest when she leaned forward to press her mouth to his.

Draco groaned low in his throat as she nudged his shirt from him and pushed him back on the bed. Her hands left hot trails along his chest as she caressed him. His own hands made quick work of ridding her of her oxford shirt and unzipping her skirt.

Hermione wriggled out of both garments as she kicked her heels to the floor. She didn't have to wait long before he rid her of her bra and knickers before flipping them over to pin her beneath him.

He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were warm as they gazed back at him and her chest rising and falling with her labored breath. Her eyes fluttered closed when one hand began caressing along her heated body.

"You were an unexpected Christmas gift last year," he whispered. "And dare I say, you're the gift that keeps on giving."

"Who would have guessed you were such a sap," Hermione hummed as she reached up to cup his face and urged his lips back to hers.

* * *

"I have a present for you."

Hermione looked up as Draco stepped into the kitchen. She glared when he cracked a smile at her. She'd just stuffed the last of her toast in her mouth, thinking no one would see. She was learning it was one of the downsides of marriage—he was around constantly now and she couldn't even shove toast in her mouth in private.

She chewed quickly and swallowed before chasing it with her orange juice. "Christmas is still a few days away," she commented as he stepped into the kitchen.

Draco shrugged as he approached and squatted at her side as she twisted in her chair to face him. He smirked when she narrowed her eyes at him as he rested his chin on her denim clad knees, his fingertips dragging up the length her calves.

"Get on with it, Malfoy. We're not going back to bed," she asserted.

She'd gotten up late for a Saturday morning and starving. They'd left their bed last night only for a shower which didn't do them much good as Draco woke her up in the wee hours of the morning to make love again. Needless to say, she was tired and bordering on a bit sore.

He rolled his eyes and leaned back. He deposited a long, thin box on her lap and balanced his hands on her knees as he waited for her to open it.

Hermione softened some as his grey eyes fell on her. So in tune with him now, she could feel his excited nerves bouncing under the surface. She sighed and reached out to scratch her fingertips along the nape of his neck in silent communication.

It had to be jewelry he was giving her which she found odd. The only jewelry he'd ever given her had been her engagement and wedding rings which she was perfectly fine with. He generally favored giving books or other special items that were well attuned to her personality.

She lifted the lid of the box with shaky hands and her brow furrowed when she saw what was within. Draco took the box from her before she could speak and pulled a delicate chain which held a tiny sparkling star.

Hermione held her hair when he gathered it away from her neck and reached around to fasten it for her.

"I found this on one of my trips to Paris when we were still dating. It doesn't look it but it's rather old. I bought it off a wizard trying to sell off some family jewelry to get himself out of debt. I don't know if he knew what he had but he was rather shocked when I insisted on paying three times his asking price. It's imbued with very powerful protection charms." He came back around to kneel in front of her again. "I know my mother has been badgering you all week about the ball. I've seen the letters you've tried to hide—you're a terrible sneak by the way—and I know she's overbearing."

She snorted rather inelegantly. "Try pompous and demeaning. She took issue with my hair specifically."

Draco frowned as he reached up to take the end of one of her curls, giving it a light tug. "Don't listen to her." He sighed heavily, "I'm going to tell her we're not going. It's not fair to you."

Hermione's eyes widened considerably. "Draco, what are you talking about? I told you I'd go. We'll let her have her moment and it will all be done then."

"At what cost though," he asked sharply. He swallowed when she cast him a concerned look and shook his head. "I'm afraid she's going to push you away from me and I don't want to lose you."

"Draco, we're married," she protested softly. "You're not going to lose me just because your mother is difficult. You're not still worrying about that, are you?"

He shrugged and gave her a hollow smile. "I'd be stupid not to be. I didn't even think you'd say yes when I asked you to marry me six months ago. I keep waiting for the moment when you wake up and realize what a mistake you made."

She bit her lip at how pitiful he looked as he spoke because that just wasn't normal for him. But he was being entirely sincere. She knew when he was trying to appeal to her emotions in his favor but this wasn't one of those times. This was obviously something he was truly insecure about now. She'd seen it coming of course but in a rare deviation from his normal inclinations, he'd been rather idealistic about his mother's response to their marriage. Perhaps he'd just been in denial before.

"Come with me and my mum today."

Draco shook his head and held his hands out to her as he stood. He pulled her up with him and set his hands on her slim shoulders. "No, I don't want to intrude on your time with your mother just because I'm feeling guilty about my own mother."

"You're not intruding," Hermione protested with a bright smile. "We're just having lunch and picking up my dad's present. It's heavy and we could use your help carrying it out of the shop," she patted his chest lightly.

Draco finally allowed himself a slight grin and followed her as she grabbed her bag from the kitchen counter. "You just want to show me off to the muggles," he quipped.

"You caught me," she teased and leaned up on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Seriously though, Draco, I just want to spend time with you."

Draco took her hand without any more prompting, "Then I'm yours."

"Oh good, you brought Draco," Mrs. Granger announced with a grin when they arrived at the table for lunch.

Hermione smiled up at her husband as he pulled out her chair for her and they took their seats across from her mother. She was quite happy that her parents liked him, even if her mother did a little more than her dad.

"I figured we could use the extra muscle to carry dad's gift."

"It shouldn't be _that_ heavy," her mother reminded her. "Otherwise, I'd have brought the car."

Draco leaned forward across the table and whispered dramatically, "I think she just wants to show off her husband to all the muggles."

Her mother laughed openly at his quip and he sat back in his chair with a smug grin that he aimed directly at his wife. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and set aside her menu.

"Or perhaps it's that _you_ want me to show you off."

"Either way," he shrugged, unbothered.

"Catherine Jones's daughter has been helping out at the shop on weekends," her mother told her with a grin. "All I've heard about since I brought the blasted record player in for repair has been about her daughter's new husband and his career…blah, blah, blah… I wouldn't hate the idea of showing off yours for once now that you're home again."

"Mum," Hermione laughed.

"What," she held her hands out in question. "I'm not allowed to want to show off how well my own daughter has done?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, ignoring Draco's obvious amusement at playing a part in this. The concerning thought that her mother might have been sorted into Slytherin had she been born with magic crossed her mind but she wasn't willing to explore that idea much.

"I don't know why you let it bother you. She's been trying to make some sort of misguided competition between us for years."

"Exactly," her mum argued, "and so many of your achievements I've had to change the details of or not tell at all. She's always been so smug about it. This," she gestured wildly at Draco, "is something I can show proof of."

"Good Godric," Hermione muttered with a shake of her head. She cast her husband an accusatory glare. "And you stop encouraging her with that smirk of yours. You're enjoying this too much."

Draco waved her off and focused instead of his new accomplice. "If there's one thing that Malfoys are good at it's always been bragging. You just tell me how obscene you want it and I'll make it happen. My Christmas gift to you."

Her mother lifted her chin in a smug grin and Draco could see where Hermione got it.

"Just make a good show of picking up the record player when we go. Her daughter's husband is on the thin side."

"I can't believe this," Hermione muttered to herself. "Since when are you this shallow, mum?"

Her mother's eyes narrowed into a dark look and her grin fell. "Since Catherine insinuated that my daughter was lying about all of her academic accomplishments _and_ that you couldn't get an attractive and successful husband so easily."

"Rubbish," Draco scoffed.

"Merlin," Hermione sighed to herself. "I have nothing to prove to those people but by all means put on a good show for yourselves. Just wait until dad hears about this."

Hermione allowed them to entertain themselves by plotting their performance. She didn't care one way or another but enjoyed watching Draco and her mother interact. If anyone had asked her in school whether she'd ever be able to imagine Draco Malfoy enjoying a conversation with her muggle mother, she'd have laughed herself silly. It was proof that perspective was everything. His mother might have been an uppity annoyance but at least there were people who supported them being together.

She kissed his cheek when he pulled muggle currency from his wallet and paid the bill. Maybe it was the Christmas music playing on the restaurant's sound system or maybe it was the way he held her hand as they followed her mother down the snowy sidewalk. It may have even been the lack of tension in his shoulders as he studied the shops and people with a curiosity of a man whose heart was open and accepting. It didn't really matter because she was so in love with him that she thought her heart might burst.

Draco felt her shift closer as they followed behind her mother but didn't question it. She was most affectionate in private and relished any public display.

"Ah, here we are," her mother announced as they stopped in front of an electronics repair store.

Draco held the door open and followed the women inside. Mrs. Granger went to approach the counter, leaving the two of them alone for a bit.

"Can we get one of these one day," he asked when he spotted a display with a rather old looking record player.

Hermione followed him and smiled when she saw it. "I think vinyl is making a comeback actually. I know you didn't have cassettes or CDs like I grew up with but records came first. In fact, the one my mum had repaired for my dad was the same one we listened to when I was growing up."

"I wanted one," Draco admitted, "but even though they were common in wizarding families, my dad wouldn't allow it. He wasn't much for music though."

Hermione frowned at this information but didn't get a chance to respond when her mother called them over.

"This is my new son-in-law, Draco," her mother grinned.

Hermione withheld the urge to laugh openly at her mother's enthusiasm but also at Catherine's open shock. She probably should have been offended but couldn't find it in her to care. Especially not when Draco hefted the old record player in his arms like a common muggle and waited patiently for introductions.

"Draco," Catherine repeated. "What an…interesting name," she smiled blandly.

"It's a family name," Hermione offered with a calm smile.

"Yes, well, lovely to meet you," she nodded.

"Pleasure's all mine," he smirked.

Hermione withheld the urge to backhand him over how pleased he appeared with himself. She didn't consider herself to be a very shallow person so it was rather amusing sometimes to remember that Draco could be so concerned with his appearance. They were such opposites in some ways.

It was also a bit disturbing how much pleasure her mother was taking in showing off her new son-in-law. She tuned them out as they conversed briefly and made her way back to the record player that had caught Draco's attention.

While not wealthy, she had been comfortable enough growing up with two dentists for parents. Even on her own and working in Paris, money had not been a major concern. Modesty was generally her friend in such aspects of life and even though Draco was still filthy rich after his wartime fees, she didn't want to rely on such things.

She made a mental note for later and joined her mother and Draco as they made their way back out of the shop.

"Are you really going to carry that all the way to my parents' house or are you going to stop and allow me to shrink it," she teased once they were on the sidewalk.

Draco glanced at her mother in question and the older woman shrugged.

"I don't see why shrinking it would hurt it. It also will make getting it past your father that much easier. He's making a roast for dinner, you know. I think he hoped you'd stay."

Draco grinned at this news as oddly enough, Hermione had found he was easily motivated by food. Give the man a chocolate chip cookie and put him to work.

After ducking into an alley long enough for Hermione to shrink the record player and store it in her charmed bag, they were back out on the street.

"Will there be cake with the roast," Draco asked innocently as they followed her mother.

Mrs. Granger smiled over her shoulder at them, casting a lingering look between them before turned forward again. "I think we can manage a cake."

Draco looked pleased by this news and Hermione gave his arm a squeeze where hers was looped. He glanced down at her in question.

"I think I quite like this side of you, Draco Malfoy," she admitted quietly. "Domesticated and interested in family time. I'd have been all over you years ago if you'd shown these qualities."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes but she noticed that he didn't make any point to argue. They both knew the window of opportunity for them wouldn't have been open any sooner than when they met again. It was a nice thought regardless.

Once they made it to the Grangers', Hermione and Draco peeled out of their coats to stay for dinner. Draco lingered behind her carefully, still a bit uncertain about her father's approval of him.

"The roast smells lovely," Hermione told her father when they found him in the kitchen.

"Yes, it does," her mother agreed. "I'm going to make a cake to go with dinner. Perhaps you could entertain Draco while Hermione and I take over the kitchen, yeah?"

Mr. Granger looked uncertain by this suggestion, eyeing his son-in-law hesitantly. He ultimately shrugged as he glanced between his wife and daughter. "I'm not sure I'd have anything to interest him."

Hermione lifted a pointed brow at her father, "He likes chess. I'm sure he'd be happy to play with you."

Draco snorted at that and smirked at her. "Because you probably can't be bothered."

"She's a sore loser," her father mock-whispered. "She can't stand that it's one of the few things she doesn't best everyone else at."

"Too right," Draco chuckled. "She won't even bother playing me."

"Come on then," her father waved a hand for him to follow him, "I'll tell you all about the time she accidentally set fire to my old chess set when she was nine after she lost to me."

Hermione rolled her eyes at their laugher but jumped when her mother swatted her shoulder lightly.

"Let them have their laugh," her mother told her. "They're talking and that's something."

She grumbled a bit but honestly couldn't be upset about it. She tried to focus on helping her mother with the baking which generally ended up with her sitting on a stool where she could see into the living room and handing her mother things when she asked.

"Would you stop," her mother reprimanded with a gentle whack of her spoon against Hermione's knuckles.

Hermione sat up and squared her shoulders. "Stop what?"

"Trying to keep an eye on them. They're grown men and your father just needed a bit of time and more exposure to him. You have to admit, honey, it was a bit odd when you first told us who you were dating."

She opened her mouth to argue but knew that would be ridiculous. She'd complained about Draco for years. Of course they'd be confused when she suddenly introduced him as her boyfriend on the first visit when they'd all crossed paths in Paris.

"Mum, I've been doing a lot of thinking and I think this is all my fault."

Mrs. Granger paused in her efforts to ice the cake and stared wide-eyed at her daughter. "Hermione, whatever do you mean by that?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders self-consciously and twirled her spoon in her cold tea. "I probably shouldn't have agreed to elope with Draco when he asked. We should've taken our time. He could have told his mother then and we wouldn't be dealing with so much drama now."

Her mother shook her head dismissively and continued her task. "Darling, have you considered that you may have wrecked Draco had you put him off? It wasn't just about you, you know. He wanted to marry you and you agreed. You didn't do anything wrong." She sighed as she pushed the fully iced cake aside and looked up to meet her daughter's eyes. "From everything I've heard about his mother, she's beyond difficult. Draco took a stand and went after what he wanted. Perhaps you should have allowed him to tell his mother sooner and that way she wouldn't have found out from that rag of a paper you magical folk have but what's done is done. He's not upset with you so don't worry yourself about it."

Hermione didn't get her chance to respond because her father and Draco chose that moment to return from their impromptu chess tournament. Her father went straight to check on the roast, muttering under his breath about proper temperatures and cooking times.

She turned on her stool as Draco came up behind her and pressed her face against his chest as she brought her arms around him.

He set his hands on her back hesitantly and rubbed gentles lines down her spine. He met her mother's gaze across the room with a questioning look.

Mrs. Granger waved a dismissive hand and mouthed, 'she's just a little emotional tonight', and turned to help her husband with a smile.

Draco shrugged and allowed her to hold on as long as she liked. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and swayed her upper body in his arms.

Her mother nudged her father as he stood and deposited the finished roast on the stovetop. She tipped her head at the two of them. She bit her lip as he grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"You like him and you know it," she accused in a whisper.

"I do," he sighed. "I was hesitant because you know what she used to say about him."

"I know they're not ready for children yet but I can't help but be excited by the prospect," her mother admitted.

"God, our grandchildren will have magic," her father cried. "Can you imagine the holidays?"

"Oh, they'll be lovely," her mother swatted at his arm.

"Do you think you can find a fire proof chess set? Depending on who they take after more, we might need to prepare."

"I can hear you," Hermione shouted from across the kitchen, having pulled herself out of her husband's arms as she sat there with her arms crossed in annoyance.

"The both of you stop," her mother ordered. "We were just at a disadvantage with Hermione growing up," she spoke directly to Draco.

"If by disadvantage you mean we didn't have enough fire extinguishers on hand when her magic first started showing then sure," her father nodded.

Draco laughed openly at the quip and dodged Hermione's hands when she turned to swat at him.

"I'm sorry," he spoke through the breaks in his laughter, "but I'm quite enjoying imagining you setting things on fire whenever you didn't get your way."

Hermione threw her hands up in irritation. "Well, it's not like I did it on purpose. And it only happened twice. Most of the time it was accidentally making things levitate."

"Which is why we had to start sitting near the back at church services," her father added. "She loves classical music and I can only imagine the black spot on my own soul from having to lie to the priest that 'no sir, you didn't see our daughter's hymnal floating in front of her'."

Draco lost all self-control at the mention of that particular event and doubled over as he tried laughed raucously. Hermione shut her eyes and groaned loudly before she opened them to pin her father with an irritated look.

"What," he asked innocently.

"Would you stop laughing," she reached over to swat at Draco.

His laughs slowed and he managed to stand upright again. He set a hand on the island to steady himself as he wiped at the moisture collected in the corners of his eyes.

"Merlin, I'm going to enjoy time with your parents if I get to hear all of these stories."

"As if your childhood was any different," she accused hotly. "Harry and Ron both admitted that strange things like that happened and Ron was raised by an entirely magical family."

"Oh no, that's not it at all, love. I had those sort of things happen, too. Yours all just appear to be mostly emotionally charged and quite hilarious given that you're muggleborn. For children like me and Weasley, no one thought anything of it but for you and your parents it was obviously a bit trying at the time. Sorry for that but I do enjoy the hilarity of it now," he teased.

Hermione huffed but knew that if the shoe were on the other foot, she'd find some humor in it as well. After all, teaching him muggle things often led to some rather amusing moments as well.

"Perhaps I can show you some of her baby pictures with dessert," her mother offered. "I happen to have a few of her that I think you'll love."

Draco grinned at his wife much to her annoyance. "I think I'm going to like holidays with the Grangers."

Hermione had a rather difficult time staying annoyed with him though. She watched him as they tucked into dinner with her parents. He'd always been charming, even when he'd been a little prat in school. Watching from the other side, she had a better understanding of just how he'd charmed her last Christmas. Around her parents and in private, gone was the man who still enjoyed pestering her best friends. This was a Draco Malfoy reserved only for those he trusted and loved most.

"Do you recall what I told you last Christmas," Draco asked on their walk home. He squeezed her gloved hand gently and glanced down at her in question.

Hermione lifted a lone brow and huffed, "That I should be oh so thankful that you'd ducked out early on your mother Christmas night so you could see me? And that the cost of that last minute portkey alone would cost me dearly?"

He had the grace to look a bit sheepish at the reminder of his words but he shook his head. "No, something else I said."

"I'm not sure then," she answered honestly.

He swung their hands lightly between them as they walked along. They'd been in no hurry to get back to her flat and had decided to enjoy the walk rather than disapparate.

"I told you I felt comfortable with you. That even though it had only been two weeks and we'd grown up on opposite sides, it felt natural being with you."

Hermione's lips parted but she quickly closed her mouth again. She did remember him saying that. As they'd walked through the quiet park near her home, they had stopped near a frozen fountain. He had brushed snow from her hair and touched her cheek in a way she'd never imagined Draco Malfoy would ever touch anyone, let alone her.

"I do now, yes."

Her heart beat harder in her chest in much the same way when he'd said those words to her. He'd presented her then with a small ornament that he pulled from the safety of his coat pocket. Two tiny origami turtle doves flew through the charmed snow incased within.

"I wish I'd been open to knowing you better when we were children," he admitted as he stopped their feet and turned to face her. "I really regret my childhood, Hermione."

"Everything worked out in the end," she told him with a small smile. She didn't want him to go to that place where he dwelled on his sins. It wasn't often and he didn't share it with many people but she didn't like it when he did.

"It did," Draco nodded. He looked over her head at the building behind her and then back to her concerned eyes. He gave her a smile to let her know he was okay, knowing where her mind had gone. "The reason I bring it up is that I've been doing a lot of thinking since you came back to England."

"What kind of thinking," she asked hesitantly.

"The good kind," he assured her. "I know how you feel about the manor and frankly, the more I've thought about it, I honestly don't care that much about the manor itself. Have I told you that we have other properties though?"

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes, "It's never been a secret that your family was loaded, Draco. I could imagine that you'd have other houses you could choose. Why do you mention it?"

He nudged his chin forward and glanced behind her. She followed his direction and turned to face the façade of regal townhome. The front façade was protected by a black iron fence and hedged in greenery. The white brick gave way to grey stone on the second and third floors, and a lone Christmas wreath decorated the front door. It was charming in a historical sense.

"There are seven bedrooms total," he told her as she continued to study it. "Two private studies, a _library_ that would make you wet your knickers on first sight," he grinned when she huffed at his teasing. "It's smaller than the manor of course but spacious enough for us to grow in number when the time is right."

She was still staring at the façade of the home, not sure she was even registering his words. He described it as though it wasn't ostentatious. No matter how much smaller than his manor, she was reminded once again that she'd married into a very wealthy family.

"What about a yard," she asked. "Children need grass to play on."

Draco's mouth drew into a small smirk and he leaned forward to rest his chin on her head while he wrapped both arms around her middle. He pressed his lips into her hair when her gloved hands came up to rest on his forearms.

"We'd be sacrificing the gardens of the manor but there's a greenspace in back which is larger than you'd imagine due to it being magically enhanced. We could have one of those muggle swings I saw at the park near your parents' house."

Hermione tilted her head back enough to see him. "Is this my Christmas gift?"

"Just one," he smiled. "My mother can't complain about us not living at one of the Malfoy properties and as I'm sure you've already noticed, it's a short walk from your parents' home."

She turned to face forward again and smiled, "Who knew the Malfoys would bother with owning any property near muggles."

Draco laughed and craned his neck to kiss her temple. "Malfoys have always been about having the best. That includes properties, no matter where they're located. Though I can guarantee, because Blaise and I surveyed it recently, it's not been lived in for a while. There's no taint of dark magic anywhere."

She sighed as she ran her hands over his forearms. "I like it."

She couldn't see his grin but she knew for certain it was there.


	9. A Very Happy Christmas

**I'm a little late in finishing up but here we are! I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and I'll see you in the New Year! Please read and review. :)**

* * *

 **Nine**

Draco stepped through the floo into Hermione's flat, dusting off his dress robes as he did so. He glanced about the quiet living room at the neat stacks of packing boxes that a few elves would be moving while they were gone. He knew Hermione didn't approve of asking them to do such tasks but he'd assured her that Pippen and Scroggs would receive extra chocolates in their Christmas stockings as a reward. It was their favorite after all.

He smiled as he spotted a small pile of presents under the glittering Christmas tree. She'd waited until the last minute to put them out, claiming she didn't trust him not to snoop. He shook his head at the tiny charmed reindeer flying in circles around the top of the tree. She had an odd leaning towards whimsy on some holidays, Christmas especially, and the reindeer must have been a last minute addition. However, the best part of her decorating was the ornament he'd given her last year. He tapped the glass ball and the two turtle doves within took flight together.

With Hermione nowhere in sight, he moved on down the hall toward the bedroom. The door was open and a shaft of light flooded the otherwise darkened hallway. Draco crept forward quietly, hoping to catch a glimpse of her before she realized he was there.

Standing in front of her vanity mirror, Hermione smoothed out the long skirt of her dress. Dressed in crimson material, a sweetheart neckline gave just the slightest tease of what was concealed. The silk material clung to her waist before it flared out all the way until it brushed over her toes.

"Merlin…"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the breathy sound and found Draco standing in the doorway, his mouth open and his eyes wide as they trailed up and down her form.

Her mouth twisted into a grimace as she turned back to the mirror. The star necklace he'd given her rested just over her breastbone but she'd not bothered with any other jewelry minus her rings.

"I wasn't sure about it after I put it on the second time," she admitted without meeting his gaze.

Draco swallowed and stepped fully into the room to stand behind her. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror before leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek where he took a moment to nuzzle against her, the floral scent of her perfume intoxicating him in the moment.

"You're bloody perfect," he breathed out. He lifted his head to meet her eyes in the mirror. "Seriously, Hermione, there's nothing my mother could have suggested that would be more perfect on you than this."

She bit her lip as she fought a full blown smile and turned her head to meet his lips. She sighed heavily when they parted and finally turned to face him.

"I suppose there's no point in delaying this any longer. It started a half hour ago and I'm sure she'll be wondering where you are."

"She can kiss a hippogriff for all I care," he muttered.

She took his arm and he led them to the fireplace. They emerged in the central most sitting room and Draco led them through the maze of hallways until they were upon the main ballroom. The sounds of chattering and music wafted around them and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she nodded.

Draco held his head high as ever as he escorted his wife into the room already full of life and holiday cheer. Trays of holiday themed drinks levitated amongst the guests while faerie lights zoomed around lighting the room in a wash of magical light. No less than ten Christmas trees flanked opposite walls collecting presents which would be donated to children staying at St. Mungo's for the holiday season.

It was a grand event and had been growing in strength every year since Draco had begun making headway on polishing the family's reputation. This was only bolstered by his mother's change in the event. Instead of being a lush showing of only the most elite and old wizarding families, the purpose was now charity. Well, and an opportunity for Narcissa Malfoy to show off her prowess in throwing a soiree of the finest scale. However, just as the Ministry holiday event they'd attended there had always been those who were torn on which side to take—admire the Malfoys for their changes or despise them for what they once were. This year seemed different as the room was bursting with attendees, some Draco was certain were only there to have a front row seat for his first public appearance with Hermione Granger on his arm.

Heads turned and whispers mixed in with the normal chatter as Draco and Hermione made their way into the room. Draco shot a dark glare at Pansy Parkinson as they passed her and her fiancé. He planned to have a word with her about her part in blowing their privacy with that blasted article in the Prophet.

Draco leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Would you be comfortable if I leave you with your friends for a moment while I get drinks and chat with Blaise?"

Hermione gave him a calm smile and nodded. "I'll be fine, Draco."

He nodded as they approached her friends all gathered at a table off to the side. Lavender was poking at Ron's side, pestering him to dance now the band was playing but the ginger wasn't interested.

"Lav, you know I don't dance," he grumbled.

"Just once," his wife begged.

"Hermione," he exclaimed in thinly veiled relief. "Harry…Ginny, Hermione and Malfoy are here."

"About time," Ginny smirked from Harry's side.

"My wife was taking her sweet time in the mirror," Draco quipped. He laughed openly when she elbowed him and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'll only be a moment."

Hermione bit her lip as she watched him make his way through the crowd. Everyone was staring at her when she turned back to the table. Granted, the whole room was likely staring at her. This should be less pressure.

"Well, the dress looks great," Ginny offered with a smile. She pinched Harry until he nodded quickly, nearly spilling his drink in the process.

"Yeah, you look great," he agreed.

Hermione shook her head at them. "Well, have you enjoyed yourselves thus far?"

"How could we not," Ginny asked. "All I've been hearing across the room is people talking about you and Malfoy."

"Ernie Macmillan reckons Malfoy has you under some sort of curse," Ron informed them. "I wouldn't put too much stock in what he says though. He's taken one too many hexes to the head working in the field in the Spell Reversal Office."

Hermione merely rolled her eyes at this news. It wasn't like she didn't hear the gossip at work. Some clearly put more stock in her judgement than others.

"I'm just waiting for the fireworks with the Greengrasses," Lavender waggled her eyebrows at Ginny. "You know that the gossip for the last year has been that Narcissa Malfoy planned to obtain a marriage contract between him and Daphne's sister, Astoria."

Hermione scowled at that reminder and the fact that the witch was likely somewhere in that very ballroom because there was no way Narcissa wouldn't invite all of her closest friends.

"Which is exactly what prompted this," she admitted as she held her left hand up, her ring facing them before she took her seat.

The thought of the way his mother had been pressuring him made her stomach turn. Her mother was right and she didn't regret eloping with Draco but she just didn't particularly like that he felt pressured to secure his own choice in a wife before his mother could marry him off like some sort of cattle.

Lavender's eyes widened considerably as it was the first time she'd seen Hermione's ring. She couldn't stop herself from reaching across the table and tilting her head for a better look.

"Merlin, he didn't just do a simple diamond but a canary diamond," she gushed.

Hermione pulled her hand back as gently as she could, shooting a rather perturbed look at Ron. She wasn't going to knock his choice in a wife but she and Lavender weren't exactly close.

"What's the big deal," Ron muttered around a cookie. "It's yellow. Isn't that supposed to be a flaw?"

Lavender made a show of rolling her eyes and Ginny snickered at the whole scene.

"No, Ron, canary diamonds are rare."

His mouth twisted into a scowl and he shoved the remainder of his cookie in his mouth instead of commenting. He knew better at this point than to dig himself into that sort of hole.

"Is that true though," Harry asked. "Was his mother really going to push him into a marriage contract without his input?"

"This Christmas to be exact," Hermione nodded sadly. "I'm not saying I wouldn't have said yes if the situation wasn't so pressing but it certainly happened a bit sooner than either of us anticipated."

"Speaking of anticipation," Ginny interrupted and pointed across the ballroom, "I think you can anticipate an apology from Parkinson if Malfoy has anything to say about it. He and Zabini just approached her. She was the one that leaked the article to her mother and then his mother."

"Oh Merlin," Hermione moaned, "I just hope he doesn't make a scene."

Across the ballroom, Narcissa was holding court and soaking up praise for her successful showing this year. She was also silently gauging reactions toward Draco and his new wife as some were less inclined to broach the subject to her face. But only some.

"I saw your new daughter-in-law with Draco just now," Endora Greengrass commented as she sipped her champagne.

Narcissa pressed her lips in a tight smile and tipped her head in the smallest of nods. "Yes, she looked lovely."

She wouldn't dare admit that she'd been both taken aback and offended when the dress robes she'd chosen had been sent back unopened with a letter pinned by her own son telling her to back off.

"Rather bold choice in attire for the evening," Endora added. "I know their marriage was quite the shock for you. How are things between you and Draco?"

"We're doing well," she fibbed with a graceful smile. "Hermione really is rather lovely so I understand why he was so taken with her."

Endora looked doubtful of that statement but smiled nonetheless. It was a careful game navigating social relations amongst purebloods.

"Well, Astoria was rather disappointed when the news broke of course. I think she'd grown quite attached to the idea of joining the Malfoy family."

"Astoria is a lovely girl. I have no doubt she'll have other prospects in no time."

As if on cue, Astoria approached the women. She was fussing with her dramatic set of plumb colored robes and looking quite put out over something.

"Mother," she whined, "I absolutely hate these robes. They're horrid!"

"Astoria," Endura gritted her teeth in an effort at patience. "Do show your manners and greet Mrs. Malfoy."

The young woman's cheeks pinked when she realized the Malfoy matriarch was standing there and she forced a smile of her own.

"My apologies, Mrs. Malfoy. Your ball is lovely as always. I especially love the trees this year."

"Thank you, dear," Narcissa smiled. Was she always so petulant? She'd not noticed that in the past.

"And what is the matter with your robes, darling," Endora asked.

"They're so stuffy," she whined. Her eyes scanned the room past all of those dancing and conversing and she pointed discreetly. "Why can't I wear something like Draco's new wife? Muggle clothing is in style, you know."

Narcissa followed her pointed finger right to her own daughter-in-law who was conversing politely with her friends and were soon joined by Draco and Blaise Zabini. She lifted a sculpted brow curiously and tipped her head as she studied the dress she was wearing more closely.

"Perhaps, I'll have to inquire with my daughter-in-law as to where she shops for her attire. Maybe then we can speak with Madame Malkins about possibly importing some styles from these designers. I imagine it's something Draco could help orchestrate as well. He has contacts now in the muggle world now."

Astoria's eyes lit with excitement at this idea and Narcissa got the distinct impression that the girl was no longer that put out over losing a possible marriage contract with her son, if she ever were.

"That would be so lovely. I'll have to tell Daphne. She wears muggle clothes at times and will never take me shopping with her."

Astoria lifted her chin indignantly and stomped off through the crowd, her mother hot on her heels to help stop any sort of sibling argument.

"Perhaps a bludger dodged then," Narcissa muttered to herself and lifted her champagne to her lips.

She busied herself with making her way around the room, glowing under all of the praise for the ball. She was a bit surprised though that most of the congratulations was regarding her son snagging such a desirable witch. A few appeared stunned that they were together but from what Narcissa could tell, all of the praise for Hermione was genuine. And she knew a thing or two about fake praise.

Narcissa watched them dance when the band struck up a slower tune. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her son actually enjoy himself while dancing at this event and it was enough to warm her some more.

She caught up with them at the end of one of the songs when they stopped to get something to drink. People were congratulating them as they passed and it appeared that Hermione was more than a little uncomfortable with all of the attention.

"You look lovely, dear," Narcissa complimented her.

Hermione's eyes widened considerably as she detected no hint of deceit in her voice.

"Thank you," she nodded, actively choosing not to acknowledge the dresses she sent back without trying on.

Narcissa studied the younger witch for a moment and ultimately sighed to herself. It was going to take some getting used to but she couldn't deny that her son was happy. The rest of the wizarding community seemed to be coming to terms with them being together.

Draco braced himself for anything as he watched his mother. It wasn't like her to be so quiet when he knew she would likely have something to say.

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Should I expect you both for dinner," she asked.

Hermione glanced at Draco for guidance as they'd not discussed what he'd be telling his mother about how they planned to split the holidays between their two families.

"Actually, Mother, we planned to have dinner with Hermione's parents. We were reserving Christmas morning and lunch for you since that's always been the crux of our holiday celebration."

She pressed her lips into a neat line as she processed this new information. She wasn't used to having to share her son. Had he married a pureblood witch, his family would have taken priority as tradition dictated. The fact that his wife hadn't even taken his surname was hard enough to understand. Now she had to share him with his new muggle in-laws?

She gave a nod and forced a smile. Maybe one day it wouldn't have to be. "I see. Well, I'll instruct the elves accordingly. And you'll be spending your first night in the London townhome?"

"Yes," Draco responded, the look in his eyes imploring her not to argue.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it then." She focused her gaze on her daughter-in-law who'd remained silent until this point. "I can't say I've set foot on the property in years. I do hope you'll let me know if you require any assistance in the redecorating. I can coordinate some of my best contacts for you, Hermione."

Hermione swallowed; the depth of meaning in that simple offer wasn't lost on her at all. It was an olive branch of sorts. One that she imagined didn't come lightly from Narcissa Malfoy.

"I will," she promised.

Narcissa gave her a brief smile and nodded towards the large clock at the entrance. "It's getting late in the evening. If the two of you disappear early, I'm sure no one will take much notice now that they've seen you together."

Draco's mouth lifted in a small smirk. That was surely his mother's way of making peace to the best of her ability.

He nodded and dropped Hermione's hand as he stepped forward to embrace his mother in a hug. He felt her take a sharp breath before she wrapped her arms around him in return.

"Thank you, Mother," he whispered at her ear.

Hermione bit her lip as she withheld a smile. She and Narcissa still had a long way to go in their relationship but she was relieved to see Draco hadn't hurt his with his mother.

He stepped back and took her hand again. They slipped back into the crowd silently and he wove them through the mass of bodies. He didn't speak until they had escaped and stood alone in front of the floo where they'd originally arrived.

"Are you okay," she asked as he paused a moment to catch his breath from the brisk walk.

Draco let go of her hand and took a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair. He graced her with his best smile when he met her eyes again and pulled her to him gently.

"The best I can ever remember being, Hermione."

She bit her lip as she stared into those familiar grey eyes. So much had changed in such a short period of time.

"I love you, Draco. Let's go home."

And finally, they did go to what would be their forever home.

Upon emerging on the other side of the floo in the London townhome, it was clear the elves had moved quite literally everything from her small flat. The tree was situated near the large bay window. The curtains were partially drawn but just enough moonlight spilled inside and they could see the snow falling outside.

Her pictures that were once displayed at her flat, now decorated the length of the mantle. A mixture of furniture decorated the room and Hermione knew she'd like have to take Narcissa up on her offer if she wanted the place decorated quickly.

Draco led them up the stairs to their new bedroom. The elves had moved his belongings as well as his pajamas as well as hers were laid out on their bed for them.

"They really think of everything," she muttered in slight awe as she looked around the room. Her candles and blankets were all there. The large walk-in closet was bigger than her childhood bedroom and divided in half for them.

"They do," Draco agreed. He loosened his bowtie and couldn't help a slight smirk at her awestruck expression. "I'm going to change and then we can read before bed."

"Do you honestly expect me to read you a children's Christmas story every year," Hermione laughed.

She'd promised to read him The Night before Christmas, after all, a nod to her own childhood. He'd taken to requesting she share these things as much as possible during the holidays, hoping he'd be prepared for the day they finally had children.

"Be serious," Draco chastised as he dumped his outer robes over a chair. "This is research for me. I need to know the proper voices and intonations throughout your muggle literature so I can be prepared for when we have children. I'll have to do the same for you with Babbitty Rabbitty and the like."

He disappeared into their bathroom before she could respond and she merely shook her head. She'd never need to question him about the fact that their children would be half-bloods. He was very clearly anticipating the day when they had them.

When Draco returned from the bathroom with the remainder of his dress robes neatly folded, he found his wife sitting up in bed, a tattered children's book resting on her lap.

"Pippin wouldn't take no for an answer on the hot chocolate and cookies," Hermione smiled as he joined her on their bed. The elf had made a short appearance while he changed and left the treats on their nightstand. "She told me it was one of your Christmas traditions. Who am I to argue?"

Draco grinned as he snatched a decorated snowman and bit the head off in one large bite. "Pippin is a smart elf. You'll have to learn to listen to her."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him in challenge. "I asked them both to take tomorrow off and enjoy the chocolates I bought for them from the shop near my parents."

Draco lifted a curious brow as he continued to munch on his cookie. "And she didn't argue?"

Hermione shrugged as she opened to the first page of the book. "She said that though I didn't take your name, I'm still her mistress and she should do as I ask. I may have detected a slight grin as well when I happened to add that some of the chocolates are caramel or crème filled."

"Devious," Draco smirked at her and turned to rest on his side. He maneuvered himself to be as close as possible so he could see the illustrated pages. He wasn't familiar with The Night before Christmas but was quite looking forward to it. She mentioned some muggle films might even be on the agenda after dinner with her parents and he was rather excited for those as well, given his limited exposure to them.

Hermione cleared her throat and glanced over at him. He looked quite boyish with his hair giving way from the product he'd used earlier in the evening and his grey eyes wide and excited. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead before she started reading aloud.

"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…" she read.

They fell asleep not long after she finished the lengthy poem, wrapped around one another in their new home. Christmas Eve brought time with her parents where her mother indulged Draco's need to tease his wife with a viewing more of her baby pictures, which may or may not have included at least one mortifying picture of her covered in chocolate while helping bake a cake.

"About time you woke," Hermione teased behind her coffee mug when Draco finally emerged Christmas morning.

He glanced at the clock over the mantle and then glared at his wife looking all too chipper in her place on their sofa.

"It's seven in the morning, Hermione," he grumbled.

She smiled as she set her coffee aside and held her hands out to him. He mumbled something about cheerful witches and marriage before he acquiesced. Draco slumped down next to her, not fighting it when she pressed him back against the sofa.

"Why are you so bloody chipper anyhow," he grumped.

"Why are you so moody," she retorted quickly. She shrugged when he continued to glower at her. "Note to self, the holidays don't make you anymore of a morning person than usual—which is not really at all."

Hermione reached for her wand on the coffee table and flicked it towards the tree. A tiny package lifted out of the branches and settled on the low table. With another wave of her wand, it grew in size.

"I like Christmas as you well know, Draco. That being said, I'm just so relieved that things have improved with your mother. I'm sorry if I've been rather agitated this month. I guess my nerves were just a bit frayed."

Draco softened considerably at the reminder and shook his head. "You don't need to apologize, Hermione."

She lifted a leg to curl under her as she turned to face him better. "No, I really should. You've been terribly kind throughout all of this and haven't gotten upset with me at all."

He snorted at that but shrugged. "Hermione, after the little git that I was to you growing up, I think I can let this one slide. Now what's in the box?" He waggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Hermione laughed, happy to see him perking up. "Open it."

Needing no further encouragement, Draco leaned forward and reached for the package. He was surprised by the weight of it as he settled it on his lap. When she nodded her head enthusiastically, he reached for the first corner of the paper. He paused though.

"Love, if this one of your knitted projects…"

"Oh you," she swatted at him. "Just open it, you prat."

He snickered to himself as he did so, knowing it couldn't be knitting as it was too heavy and he'd not actually seen her knit anything new in the last six months. He ripped the paper away easily and his mouth dropped when he saw what had been concealed within.

"You went back for it," he asked, still surprised.

Hermione ripped away the rest of the paper and tossed it aside revealing the record player he'd spied on their outing with her mother.

"Of course, I did, Draco."

She flicked her wand again and another package sailed through the air towards him. This one was smaller and lighter. She helped him set the record player on the coffee table and watched as he tore into the wrapping.

"Merlin," he breathed in awe.

"I hope I found the right ones. I wasn't really listening to the Weird Sisters before I got to Hogwarts. I threw in a few muggle bands I thought you might like, too. Something for you to explore."

Draco carefully set the records aside and pulled her across his lap. He cut off her laughter with his mouth as he drew her into a heated kiss.

She licked her lips as she pulled back to see him. "I want us both to let go of the past. I know the papers aren't going to bugger off until they get bored and find something more interesting…"

"Or realize I've not put you under some sort of curse," he muttered dryly.

"Or that," she agreed with a gentle smile. "Your father isn't here to dictate your life and your mother seems to be coming around. I want the new year to be about us moving forward, not looking back."

Draco studied her eyes and the warmth he saw there. Just like that first night in Paris, he knew he wanted her forever. Only now he could actually say it.

"I love you, Hermione."

She lifted a hand to stroke across his cheek and leaned in for another soft kiss. "I love you, too, Draco."


	10. Paris Again, With Love

**You may have noticed that I didn't mark this as complete. I was teetering on the edge with that decision. However, the inspiration struck for a short epilogue and I cooked this up last night. I hope you all have a very happy New Year's!  
**

 **As always, thank you so much for your kind words. You give me confidence that I can actually do this think called writing.** **I don't know what I'll write next but for now it's back to editing my original work. Here's to hoping next year brings new opportunities. :)**

* * *

 **Epilogue  
** _Two Years Later_

Hermione bounced on her booted feet as she waited for Draco outside the coffee shop. Even with the new gloves that Narcissa had gifted her over Christmas and a light warming charm, her hands were still rather cold. Paris was frigid this time of year but the falling snow and the lights had a brilliant smile on her face.

"Sorry," Draco muttered as he came up behind her, two cups of hot chocolate steaming in his hands. He passed her one and she looped her arm through his as they began their walk.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Hermione breathed after her first sip. "I think my insides were nearly frozen."

He smirked down at her, "Well, you were the one who insisted we go for a walk before meeting everyone back at the hotel."

"I missed Paris this time of year. It was hard enough to coordinate our friends and family getting away for New Year's but I needed some time alone with you."

Draco quirked a curious pale brow at that comment and his mouth twisted. "What moronic thing have I done now that I'm unaware of? And it better not be about the toilet seat again."

Hermione made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "Draco, it was three in the morning and I bloody fell _in_!"

He groaned loudly and rolled his eyes skyward. She was never going to let him live that down. Her screaming nearly had his ears bleeding by the time he found her flailing and cursing his name. She showered twice before she said she didn't feel the disgust of having sat in toilet water anymore.

"I found the right charm to make sure the seat goes back down whether I remember or not," he reminded her. "Let's allow this one to die, yeah?"

Hermione pulled a deep breath in through her nose and released it past her lips into the cold. She watched the tendrils of air before they disappeared and she stopped them in their walk. They were near the Eiffel Tower and only blocks from their hotel.

"Fine," she waved a dismissive hand. "I'll let it go until I need to remind you once again that you can be an idiot sometimes, no matter how much I love you."

"That's all I ask," he smirked at her. He brought his hot chocolate to his lips for a sip as he watched her.

Hermione chewed the corner of her lower lip as she shuffled from foot to foot. She could feel his eyes on her but he knew better than to force her to speak before she was ready. She looked up finally, her brown eyes hardened in their resolve and her Gryffindor bravery rearing its head.

"You know, you scared me when you fell off that blasted broom last week."

Draco snorted, "Seriously, Hermione? How many times have I come home with bruises or worse after playing quidditch with those two morons you call friends?"

She pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed. "Don't you think it's time to stop playing that silly game anyway? Someone's going to get hurt for real one day. Harry and Ginny just had James six months ago and I know it makes her nervous the way you jostle him on his broom. Forgive either of us for not wanting to be widowed before we've even reached thirty."

"You're being a bit dramatic, love," he crooned teasingly. "And we don't have children so what's the extra worrying about, huh?"

Draco watched as her eyes darted from his and she focused on the snowy ground. A pale brow lifted curiously and he reached up to scratch at his temples where his hat was rubbing.

He tipped his head in question. "Hermione?"

Her throat bobbed and for a moment he swore her eyes were glossed over.

"What if I was, Draco," she whispered.

She bit her lip as his eyes widened slightly and she followed the movement of his free hand when he reached for his wand. She glanced around them to make sure no muggles were near and was thankful that the muggle repelling charm seemed to have stuck when she cast it outside of the coffee shop earlier.

Draco flicked his wrist around her midsection and watched patiently as a red mist enveloped her. He nearly dropped his wand in shock before he shook himself of it. He stowed his wand and vanished the remainder of his drink before he took her shoulders in his hands and leaned down to meet her eyes better.

"Hermione, you're pregnant?"

She swallowed hard as she studied his wide eyes and nodded. She released a gasp when he crushed her to his chest, nearly spilling her drink before she was able to wrap her arms around him. He squeezed a relieved sigh from her before she felt him tilt his head enough to pepper soft kisses along her forehead, cheeks, and nose until he found her lips.

"I didn't think it was possible to love you anymore than I already did," he breathed when he finally calmed enough to rest his cheek against her hair.

Hermione released a breathy laugh, thankful for the positive reaction. She knew he wanted children, too, but it was a surprise when she found out as they'd not exactly been trying yet. There was always that irrational fear that maybe he wouldn't be ready or wouldn't want this as much as she did once she realized it was all real.

She was wiping tears from her eyes when he finally took a step back. His bare hands were soon on her face and wiping the hot trails for her.

"Your hands are freezing," she laughed lightly.

"Sorry," he smiled. Nothing could stop his smile now. Not even the prospect of having to spend his New Year's Eve with her friends and their families.

"You've been saying that since Christmas," she joked.

Draco shrugged his shoulders but he looked so light and happy. "Yeah, well, you probably were right about it being a bad idea to gift your dad a wizarding chess set."

Hermione shook her head and pulled a calming breath in again. "I'm so glad you're happy about this."

"Why in Merlin's saggy Y-fronts wouldn't I be," he asked, an incredulous look overtaking him for the moment.

"Okay," she pointed a finger at him, "you'll have to stop saying things like that once our child is old enough to start talking. But it was just an irrational fear. I know you wanted children but this was a surprise."

"Hermione, we've been married for two and a half years now. Planned or not, I can find no reason not to be stupidly overjoyed by this brilliant news."

"Good, good," she nodded.

She vanished the remainder of her now cool drink and took his arm again, leading them in the direction of their hotel where friends and family were waiting.

"I bet it happened that night after we had dinner with Pansy and her fiancé," Draco speculated with a grin. "You were so angry. I don't actually remember you casting a contraception charm."

Hermione shot him a perturbed look. "Draco, even your mother agreed with me that what she said about the two of you dating at Hogwarts was inappropriate for dinner in front of your respective partners."

"I'm not disagreeing," he argued, his free hand up in surrender. "I changed the subject quickly. But I won't deny enjoying your fire that night."

She sighed heavily as they reached the entrance to their muggle hotel. "You're incorrigible."

"And soon-to-be father to the next Malfoy heir," he smirked.

" _Granger_ -Malfoy," she reminded him as they passed the doorman. "We'd decided that ages ago."

"I know, I know," he muttered with an eye roll.

Truthfully, he didn't care. Draco of ten years ago would have scoffed at the idea of his children bearing both his and their mother's name. He also would have been up in arms about his wife not taking his name. But that boy was long gone.

"Are we telling everyone," he asked as they stepped into the lift.

Hermione nodded as she took her gloves off and stowed them in her coat pocket. "I think it's okay to now. I'm eight weeks. Only four more weeks before I'm into the second trimester."

Draco's eyes grew as the lift chased floors to the top level. He'd paid a quite a few pounds in order to house her two closest friends and their wives, his mother, her parents, and Blaise and his wife. However, as all of their family and friends now knew, whatever Hermione wanted, Draco would make sure she got it. If she wanted to spend New Year's with everyone, he'd bloody well make it happen. Even if that meant bribing Potter and Weasley quidditch with tickets that he'd have rather kept for himself.

And now he knew why she wanted them all together.

"You've known for how long?"

"Just the last few weeks," she assured him with an apologetic smile. "I was saving the news."

"Hmm, could have told me on Christmas," he grumped.

She bumped her shoulder against his side playfully. "Yes, but we met again in Paris. Call me emotional but I thought it would be fitting to tell you here."

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't disagree. He followed her to their room and braced himself for all of the crying and emotions that the news would soon bring them. It was one thing to share his emotions with his wife, but he wasn't keen on doing so with everyone else.

Hermione unwound her scarf from around her neck as they entered the sitting room where they'd left their friends and family. A round of 'hellos' and 'what took you so long' followed as they were greeted back into the fold.

Coats, scarves, and hats dropped on the nearby chair, Hermione took Draco's hand as they faced them all together. Their two mothers were watching them expectantly and soon so were Ginny and Harry. Everyone else seemed absorbed in the wizarding chess game going on between Blaise and Ron.

"Oi," Draco shouted when he finally lost his patience. "We have news for you sorry sods! Pay attention!"

The lot of them looked up from the game finally, curious looks all around.

"If you two are going to announce that you're renewing your vows or some other sappy rubbish, I'm leaving," Blaise warned jokingly.

He dodged Daphne's hand when she made to swat at him and waved his hands for the couple to continue.

Draco's lip curled in mild irritation which only made Blaise grin more. However, he blanked his expression when Hermione tugged on his hand.

"Merlin," she muttered to herself. "Anyway, we won't distract you for long. I just told Draco and since everyone was together, we thought we'd just tell you all now."

"Hermione's pregnant," Draco shouted before she could finish.

He laughed and dodged her wand when she made to flick it in his direction. He ran off to stand behind one of the sofas as the women all made various noises from squeals to sobs (their mothers). He even shook Ron's hand for once when the redhead put it out in congratulations.

"Oh, the first grandchild," Mrs. Granger cried after she hugged Hermione.

Hermione's eyes widened when she watched Narcissa embrace her mother and together the two of them cried. Her father merely stood by shaking his head.

"That still disturbs me," Draco admitted, back at her side again as Ginny finally got her chance to hug her.

"It disturbs us all, Malfoy," Ginny joked.

But truthfully, Narcissa had softened over the last two years and even insisted that Draco invite the Grangers all to Christmas lunch this year. Hermione had been rather taken aback with how easily their mothers got along in the short period of time they'd been acquainted. Apparently, bonding over your children and the questionable things they'd done in adolescence could bridge any culture gap.

The commotion died down eventually and Hermione drifted towards Draco who was seated in an overstuffed armchair near the electric fireplace.

"Strange things, these muggle fires," he muttered when she squeezed her way half in the chair and half on his lap.

She smiled as she kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. "Quite brilliant if you ask me."

Draco wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. "Are you tired?"

"A bit," she admitted with a nod.

They were silent for a while as they watched the flickering flames. "Are you happy, Hermione," he asked.

Her mouth curled into a little smile, "More than I can possibly put into words, Draco."


End file.
